The Dark Phoenix
by AussiePhoenix
Summary: Sequal to New Dark Lord. Harry was never going to stand by and watch his world fall apart. A fight to save the man he loves, a struggle to save his soul. Harry becomes his own worst nightmare. Snarry. Slash. Detailed summery inside.
1. The Phoenix has Risen

**The Dark Phoenix**

**Summery: **Dark Lords are fearsome. They dabble in the arts and magic no one else dares to touch. What could be more terrifying then Voldemort, so set on cleansing the world of muggle-borns? That would be the new Dark Lord. More powerful then Voldemort. And this Dark Lord has powerful weapons. A friend of all beasts. He has no fear. He has no reason to care whether he lives or dies. All he has is betrayal and anguish. All he has is his thirst for revenge. All he has, is nothing. No fear, no care, no will to live, no name. Nothing: But the Dark Phoenix.

**Chapter One: The Phoenix has Risen. **

**Warnings: Violence, Swearing (throughout whole story).**

Harry Potter, though he no longer went by that name, sat in his library reading up on his thickest volume of the Dark Arts series. Dark Arts: The Art Behind It. It was quite fascinating, but some of the procedures required things he would never dream of doing, such as virgin sacrifices. He grinned maniacally. Who could be bothered finding a virgin? He chuckled at the thought and sipped down the last of his firewisky. Good year too.

Harry stretched and yawned, glancing at the clock above his fireplace. It was eleven-thirty at night but he'd had a strenuous day, maybe he'd turn in. The fire was crackling merrily and the warmth of it was almost palpable. It was lulling him into submission, something no one had been able to do for some time now, over a month in fact. Just over. Harry didn't hear the book slip from his lap and land on the hearthrug with a thump as he fell asleep.

Much had happened since the night Harry had vanquished the Dark Lord, effectively told Dumbledore to 'kiss his arse' and pretty much taken over the roll of bestowing fear into the hearts of those who had betrayed him. He had left that night, escaped from Hogwarts, leaving a dire warning behind. He would be back to take his revenge.

But right now he was quite happy allowing them to stew in fear. He knew extra wards had been put up around Hogwarts, even though Dumbledore refused to admit his 'golden boy' might attack him. He kept going on about some crap that Voldemort had sent Harry a vision before his death but Harry knew what he'd seen. And it sure hadn't been a vision.

So since then he had been holed up in the mansion he had purchased, Birch Hall, (although the auctioneer had insisted on cancelling the auction and giving it to him for half-price) quietly studying to use his magic to the total, rather powerful potential. It was amazing how much he was learning. He hadn't declared it to the world but when he had killed Voldemort, Harry's vortex of magic had seemed to pull Voldemort's magic from him and into Harry. Harry was only too happy to finally use it for his own ends.

In his last little speech to Dumbledore, Harry had told him that the lies had killed Harry Potter, that he was no longer Harry Potter, and that there would never be another Harry Potter. Since then someone had started a rumour, and he had become known by the pseudonym of The Dark Phoenix.

Barring the people who he had sworn his revenge on, the people who had been at Hogwarts while he had, the teachers, and the Death Eaters, the whole wizarding world had pledged their allegiance to him, many refusing to let their children go to Hogwarts, even after their letters came. They didn't follow him officially of course, for he would have to acknowledge himself as their leader for that to happen, but unofficially he had the biggest gathering of followers anyone had ever seen, purely because he was the most powerful wizard on the block now, evil or not. A few Death Eaters had even sworn themselves to him.

Harry had smiled grimly at that news. They would be the first to go when he finally attacked, after all, though pretty much everyone he had known had been in on it, they had been the ones who did the actual killing. Oh yes, they would be getting a large taste of the spells he had learned. He was particularly interested in the one that made people see anyone in the past they had harmed.

Harry had had no contact with the outside world, except for the Daily Prophet which was delivered daily. He had a bunch of plea-mail from Dumbledore which he had completely ignored, and various other letters from the appreciative wizarding public. They had gone onto the fire.

Then there were the letters from Ron and Hermione. Harry had taken great pleasure in doing what he had done to them. He had used a dark ritual which made the letters blow up when returned to the sender, effectively poisoning the area and people it came in contact with. Very few people knew how to reverse the effect. Severus had but…

'Teach them to kill the potions master,' he had snorted, sadness wrapping its silky cloak around him for a moment. Unfortunately it would seem that someone _had _known how to reverse it because he had not yet had the pleasant news of their demise delivered to him.

He had, at first, intended to destroy Dumbledore as soon as he was back at full power. A little later on though, he decided he rather enjoyed psychological torture. The sheer wait for an attack could be a damaging as the attack itself. Besides, the old man had certainly done his share of psychological torture to Harry.

Everyday he felt more and more prepared, but didn't care. He was ready, but for once this was going to be on his terms, no one else's! He enjoyed his isolation, it was a far cry from eleven years in a cupboard, here he was free to come and go as he pleased, with only a single house elf who cooked when Harry didn't feel like it and kept the place looking respectable. That house-elf was Dobby.

He had adopted Harry's nom de plume fast, ensuring he would not incur the man's wrath. Harry took swift vengeance on anyone who dared speak his name, or what he now claimed was not his name, but he had given everyone their fair chance, not killing anyone…yet. The warning period was thoroughly over.

Harry's most powerful following came in the shape of the creatures of the woods. They had seen what he had done with the Acromantula and the Dragons. Many of them had opted to allow him the knowledge of their language in return for small favours, helping heal a young one, or protection if they were an endangered species.

One of them had become especially attached in the past month and insisted on becoming Harry's pet, much to Hedwig's distress. His pet Demiguise. Harry found the whole concept hilarious. They were intensely shy and could make themselves invisible when threatened. Their pelts were often used to make invisibility cloaks. Harry had saved this one from hunters when it had been sick and delirious, unable to use its power. He had granted Harry the boon of the Demiguise language and pleaded for Harry to let him live with the young man.

That was how the graceful ape-like creature with his big doleful black eyes and fine, silky, silvery hair had wormed his way into Harry's heart. The beast had insisted on having a name as close to Harry's own as possible, The Dark Phoenix (or Phoenix as the few people he deigned to talk to ie. Dobby called him). So the gorgeous Demiguise had become known as Augurey, better known as the Irish Phoenix.

Harry sighed in his sleep and rolled over in his chair, one hand dropping to the floor as he slid most way out of the over-stuffed armchair. A most undignified pose for the next Dark Lord. A tiny bit of drool fell from the corner of his mouth and he twitched.

No matter how many spells and curses and potions he learned he had yet to find a cure for his nightmares, that was how powerful they were. Even with the Dreamless Sleep or Goodnight Dream potions, plus added tears, Harry couldn't banish them.

He twitched and turned again, sweat rolling in beads down his face.

"_Home truths? Harry look around, see what 'home truths' Dumbledore has been keeping from you. Of course you're right about Severus, such an innocent wrapped up in all of this. Honestly, believing he could spy on me, by going to my partner!" _

_Voldemort continued to laugh, waving his hand at the barrier to put even more emphasis on the fact Harry should look. He didn't want to, he wanted to kill Voldemort, right then and there, but he knew that until he looked he couldn't. Some unforgivable pull made him stare out at what would no doubt be a morbid scene. _

_Dumbledore had the usual twinkle in his blue eyes, but the twinkle no longer seemed to be that of a kindly old grandfather, but one of malicious intent. _

Harry moaned and struck out blindly at nothingness in the room. He whimpered, he didn't want to see it again. He didn't want to see it again.

"_You fell for it, you got the vision and you still fell for it," he laughed. Turning his head to the sky to allow the full bellyful of laughter to be released to the heavens. "Voldemort is quite right, of course. Severus is completely innocent, just like the others who had to die." _

"_No," Harry whispered as realisation dawned on his face at the same time as Severus's. "NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"_

Harry felt tremors rack his body and his whole soul was screaming at him to do something to save Severus, even though he knew it was too late. His body twisted and he fell from the chair onto the floor.

"_Oh, but I already have, Harry," Dumbledore smirked, pointing his wand at Severus. "Good-bye Severus, you were such a help."_

_Severus barely had time to look outraged before a green light flashed and he collapsed to the ground, still. _

"_No! NO! NOOO!" Harry was screaming, he knew it as he threw himself up repetitively against the barrier, not caring the pain it brought upon him as he tried desperately to break through. "You fucking bastard! You fucking bastard scum!" _

"FUCKING BASTARD!" Harry jerked awake, the scream still coming out of his mouth as his magic danced and pulsed around him. He was aware of many rare and valuable books being tossed throughout the room. He didn't care. The huge mirror that sat above the old fireplace had shattered and his foe glass looked close to it.

Slowly he pushed himself up off the ground before wiping a tear angrily away from his face and standing, his clothes straightening at a wave of his hand. Three more waves and the books were back in place, the mirror fixed and his glamour back in place. He wondered sometimes why he used glamour, just who was he trying to fool? Dobby? Augurey? HEDWIG?

Harry shook his head fiercely as a large ape-like creature came into the room with fare more grace then any ape had ever managed. He looked at Harry through his deep black eyes, curtained by a long silver forelock.

_Phoenix? _he asked softly. He was really a most intelligent creature.

'_I'm fine, Augurey,' _Harry reassured him He found it easier to communicate telepathically these days. All mammals had the ability, though not many chose to use it, as did house-elves, if that's what their master wished. Harry didn't think he'd spoken since the day he had protected Augurey from his hunters, shouting a few choice words at the abashed wizards before Apparating out.

_You look it, _the creature replied dryly. _I'm flattered, but glamour or not I don't go for out-of-species relationships. _

'_Damn, thought I was wooing you quite well myself,' _Harry smirked. The look soon fell from his face. '_Aug…do you…do you miss your friends? Family?'_

The gentle beast stepped close to Harry and took the man's hand.

_With you around? No. We aren't social creatures, Phoenix. Your company is most satisfying. _

'_Glad to hear it,' _Harry sighed.

_Time for something to eat I believe, _Augurey suggested with a smile. Harry checked his watch and was shocked to see he had slept until the early hours of the morning. It was seven thirty a.m.

'_Sure. DOBBY!' _

"Yes Master Phoenix sir?" Dobby asked, appearing with a crack. Though he allowed Harry to speak to him telepathically, he chose to speak out loud to "keep the house alive", in his own words.

'_Could you rustle up some breakfast please? And yes, you will be joining us.' _

"Very well, Master Phoenix."

Harry sighed. It had been a tiring process to get the house elf to agree to sitting at the dinner table, and then eating. There were a lot of arguments usually consisting of,

"'Tis not right sir, 'tis too much for a house elf."

'_I order you to sit and eat.' _

"Yes sir."

Finally Harry had threatened sending Dobby back to Hogwarts. Now Dobby ate every meal with him and Augurey. Not wanting to leave her out, Harry had made Hedwig a small stand for the table so she could eat out of her dish while they ate. He had been disappointed to learn he would not be able to talk to her because human mouths just couldn't make the same shape as owl beaks and thus could not produce the same sounds. Although he and Hedwig had always been able to communicate very well without words.

_Do you plan on going to the hall anytime soon? _asked Augurey dryly as Harry made no further move towards the door. He was worried about the young man. He had been down and depressed since he had arrived, it was to be expected of course, for Augurey had heard the sad tale of his friends' betrayal, but it was getting to the point where the warrior wouldn't eat for days on ends, often only doing so because Augurey or Dobby would threaten to starve themselves for as long as he did.

Harry walked down to Birch Hall's Great Hall slowly, aware of Augurey loping slowly beside him as he was wrapped up in his own thoughts. He flicked a hand up to his eyes as he often did, almost feeling naked without his glasses, despite the fact they had been gone for almost three weeks. After losing them in his first attempt to kill Voldemort in his sixth year, Harry had been rendered almost completely helpless, he didn't like the feeling and didn't want to let it happen again. It hadn't taken long to find the ritual for eternal blindness in Dark Arts: The one that'll last forever. Once he'd done that, it took Harry several practices and tests before he successfully reversed the spell and wished for the best and applied it to his eyes. It had worked, marvellously at that. He had shed his glasses, though they were safe in his bedside table in his room upstairs, they had been given to him by Severus, and he would not throw them away, ever.

Harry sighed and pushed open the great doors in front of him to reveal a huge oak table in the middle of the hall. It almost ran the full length of the room and occasionally, just occasionally, Harry felt lonely when he perched in his spot at the very end of the huge table. The place seemed too…desolate sometimes. He fancied he could still hear the balls that would have taken place when the previous owners had lived here, over a century ago, the laughter and clatter of a hundred plates at the dinner parties, the soft whispers of lovers as they sat out on the balcony in the moonlight.

Growling at himself for his own inanity and wistfulness for things he couldn't have, Harry slumped down into his chair and observed the massive breakfast Dobby had set out. Chicken, every soup imaginable, salads of all kinds, cottage pie, sausages, steak, beef, turkey, carrots, peas, mashed and in-the-jacket potatoes, pumpkin, pasties and pies, toast (thankfully) and so many other things that Harry felt sick at the thought of eating so much just looking at it. He had long since given up on telling Dobby to make a 'small' meal.

Harry placed a slice of toast onto his plate with a little salad and left it at that. He really wasn't hungry but didn't feel like getting into a fight that day.

"Master Phoenix got mail today," Dobby squeaked, scuttling forward with a bow before placing two letters and the _Daily Prophet _on the table beside Harry's plate, with a frown at how little the man was eating.

'_Thank-you, Dobby,' _Harry acknowledge gratefully. He glanced at the first letter, bloody Dumbledore again. He was going to have to strike somewhere soon, just to let the old man know he was serious. He threw the letter to the floor where it disappeared to land on the pile in the library. The second letter was written in handwriting unknown but said 'To Our Saviour Harry Potter'. An idea formed in his mind as he stared at the words 'Harry Potter'. Well…he smirked, they'd had fair warning.

He looked at the address on the back of the envelope, a return one even though it wasn't necessary with owls. Perfect. Tomorrow he would pay…Reberta Williams a visit. She wouldn't come out unscathed, indeed, she might not come out alive.

Harry ate slowly, unfolding the _Daily Prophet_ as he did so, his mind whirling at just which curses he planned to use to make the world remember _Harry Potter_, even his mind spat the name, did not exist any more.

He pushed his spoonful of peas into his mouth, and practically down his throat to force himself to eat it. This act of forcing himself to swallow was almost his death as he saw the front page of the paper.

"Is Master Phoenix alright?" Dobby asked, jumping up from his own meagre plateful of food to bang Harry enthusiastically on the back as the man's mouth fell open as his eyes turned into huge emerald saucers.

'_No…it…it can't be…' _he stammered, before collapsing heavily on the seat beside him. His breathing was harsh as he closed his eyes firmly. He didn't want to look at the paper again, couldn't go through that pain. He was shivering, every tremor racking his body as though he was on a massaging chair. He felt a deadly pain slice through his scar, as it did now when he was in extreme distress. Harry heard the screams and he realised it was him, one hand clasped firmly over his forehead.

Cold ran through his hair and down his back and he felt the pain in his head ebbing away slightly, but the shivering simply increased. He realised with a start that Dobby had just poured a bucket of icy water over his head. The house-elf in question and Augurey were currently standing on the table, peering down at him in worry. Shaking himself, Harry sat up and made a grab for the prophet again. He re-read the headline, taking a deep breath to calm himself. It definitely said it. And there was a picture, proof. So Harry took a deep breath and said the only thing he had in a month.

"Fuck…" He made a movement of his hand and the next moment the biggest bottle of Krondorf he could summon was in his reach. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, Harry took a huge gulp of the smooth alcohol and steadied his nerves. With a little more confidence he lifted up the paper again and began to read.

_**Severus Snape – Spy – Slumbers On**_

_Professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, also war hero and spy on Lord Voldemort, has, a month after the end of the Great War, taken a turn for the worse. The Hogwarts Professor has been in a coma since the battle, yet to wake up, and at approximately 2:24 this morning, began to become completely non-responsive to medical treatments. An antidote to the curse that hit him has yet to be found._

"_Unfortunately Severus' condition began to deteriorate this morning," says school medi-witch Poppy Pomfrey. "He's slipping away and unless the antidote to whatever hit him is found his vital organs are going to shut down. As it is he needs constant attention and regular heart strengthening spells." _

_When Professor Dumbledore, order of Merlin first class, was asked what he thought about the potion professor's condition his reply was disconcerting. _

"_Death is but the next great adventure, I'm sure Severus will make the right choice." _

Harry had read enough, glaring at the paper, wanting to kill Dumbledore. He couldn't believe it, it didn't make any goddamn sense! How could Severus be alive? Harry had _seen_ Dumbledore kill the man. He had seen Dumbledore use _Avada Kedavra_ and he had seen his Professor and friend fall. It seemed, by some miracle, that Severus had survived. It wasn't impossible, Harry had proven that, but _Dumbledore_ had sent the spell. Now the bastard had as good as said Severus should choose to die or his life would be forfeit! Oh yes, Harry had learned to read between Dumbledore's manipulative lines very easily.

Then again the whole thing could be a scam, a scam which Dumbledore had set up to cover his own sorry hide. That would make sense. Harry decided, scanning the article again. Yes, that would be it. All some manipulative farce. Could he risk it though? Harry peered at the article dubiously. Damn, he couldn't just hope that it was a farce, what if it wasn't? Then Dumbledore would make sure Severus was dead before the week was out!

Well Harry was damned it he was going to let that happen! He stood and allowed himself to take his weight on his arms as he tried to stop the trembling in his body, leaning against the table. He was worried that he might have gone into some state of mild shock but shook the feeling off immediately. With a wave of his hand he summoned his _firebolt millennium_ (he still had his firebolt from Sirius of course, this was just better for long journeys) and straddled it.

_Don't do anything stupid, _commanded Augurey sternly, apparently knowing just what Harry was about to do. _Do not hurt anyone while you are angry, you know you'll regret it. _

'_When am I not angry any more Aug?' _demanded Harry sarcastically, but he had to admit that at the moment weariness, not fury, laced the words.

_Just don't do any lasting damage then, _Augurey smirked wryly. Harry sighed and shook his head, climbing aboard his broom and settling into place. _You're not thinking straight._

'_Don't be stupid, of course I am,' _snapped Harry.

_Really? Then why are you wasting time with a broom when you know full well you are capable of apperating, inside Hogwarts' wards no less? _Augurey pointed out wisely. Harry smacked himself in the head, then winced.

'_Merlin I'm thick,' _he growled, placing his broom on the table. '_I won't be long.'_

Harry rolled his eyes in his own stupidity as he limped to an empty area in the room and nodded gravely to Augurey, Dobby and Hedwig before disappearing with a loud bang.

Harry apparated into the corridor outside the Hospital Wing, having no intention of accidentally landing on top of a patient and giving himself the look of a clumsy seventh year, which by all respects he should be. He straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair. Putting on his most intimidating face he swept into the Infirmary.

There was still a huge cluster of people in there, most around Severus's bed and three Hufflepuff's around a classmate's bed. 'Obviously,' Harry thought in disgust, 'the little rats want to know him now he's a fucking war hero.' It was the before breakfast visitors.

He was very satisfied with the reaction he got as they turned slowly and realised who stood in the doorway, looking the very picture of furious and very powerful evil. Harry was glad he had dressed well that day, instead of spending the whole day in his pyjamas.

Though he had no cloak or robes there was no mistaking it was him, his scar very visible from his freshly cut hair. He had no fringe, most of his inky black hair stood almost straight up, and cropped down to about two centre metres long. His face had filled out a little, every feature honed and chiselled. His emerald eyes were flashing danger under his thick black eyebrows, their colour even brighter when not hidden behind glasses.

Harry had opted to wear muggle clothing as often as possible, he found robes could be a little stifling but today his outfit had not consisted of a shirt and jeans, or a T-shirt and cargo pants. Today he was wearing a smart white shirt, casually buttoned up to the second last top hole, the collar neat but not stiff. His jacket and pants were jet black and fitted his rugged, well-filled out figure magnificently. For some reason he couldn't fathom, though he was glad he had, Harry had also placed a black tie loosely around his neck. The whole outfit made him look powerful, but nonchalantly so, something that made power seem even more frightening.

Dumbledore had been sitting quietly in the corner next to Severus's bed, allowing his students to take in Harry without speaking, though wondering mildly how Harry was here and yet he had not felt him enter through the wards. Finally, deciding the children had had long enough to gawp, he stood.

His eyes met Harry's, clashing hostility and deadly promise still lay in their emerald depths, even a month after he had last seen the young man. The old man had been sure Harry wouldn't do anything about the warning he had issued, believing it to have come out on the spur of the moment, but now…he was worried to admit he wasn't so sure.

"Harry, how nice to se…"

"YOU WILL NOT ADDRESS ME BY THAT NAME!" Harry roared, his voice hoarse and ragged from not talking for so long, scaring the people in the Infirmary out of their wits. Harry's face was contorted into furious lines. "You killed that person a long time ago. He no longer exists! You will not speak his name!"

Dumbledore clawed suddenly at his throat, his old eyes wide in the kind of shock no one in the room had seen before. He looked like he was choking on some invisible force. The students looked to Harry who had his hands crossed calmly across his chest as Dumbledore rose a metre from the floor before finally grasping his wand and breaking the curse. Harry raised an eyebrow to signify it had taken a rather long time.

Dumbledore gasped a little and rubbed his throat, staring at his ex-pupil in horror and worry. What Harry had just done was a curse no Hogwarts student would ever learn. Harry was currently sporting a cocky-grin.

"Ready to listen for once, Dumbledore?" he sniggered. "Fascinating. I see your power is waning the older you get, although the fact that you couldn't even kill Severus seems to makes that point mute. Although I see you have managed to make his sudden decline in health look like an accident…"

Harry trailed off, vehemence ablaze in his eyes and face once more. The students had wisely moved to the sides of the room, obviously not so sure that their headmaster would be able to protect them any more.

"Er…Phoen…" Dumbledore began, hesitant for the first time in a long time. Harry gave another cocky winning smile.

"I don't think so, Dumbledore. No more lies," Harry smiled softly, his voice lethal. He strode forth to Severus's beside and waved a hand from the top of Severus's head to his toes and suddenly a deep red shield covered the Professor completely. Harry threw a spell at the shield and nodded in satisfaction as it bounced off. The room looked terrified. The spell had been green. "I wouldn't touch it if I were you," the powerful wizard smirked as a student came closer. "I will be back momentarily for my charge."

Then, right in front of the headmaster and students who had never seen such a thing ever done before, Harry disapperated within the wards of Hogwarts…

Harry reappeared a second later in Professor Snape's rooms. He snickered at the fact the wards on these rooms were tougher to get through then the ones around Hogwarts. His eyes paused as he scanned the room on a clock above the mantelpiece. He frowned. It was screaming out the time at him but there was something else. He could see a flicker of magic around it. He probed gently and the enchantment shimmered a little and fell.

Harry gaped at the clock that was revealed. Much like the Weasley's but with more places and emotions for people to be feeling. He also noted that the clock's hands had the useful ability to split in two or three or more if the case arose where more then one label was applicable. Very handy.

Cocking his head to the side, Harry was shocked to see he was on the clock. His hands were currently on breaking rules, not thinking straight and home. He snorted. He was thinking straight and he sure as hell wasn't home. Obviously this clock needed to be updated. But as he turned away he couldn't help the niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Severus's hand resting firmly on Mortal Peril.

He walked straight into Severus's private potions lab and began to gather as many potions as possible, placing them carefully in a large bag, lined with vial holders. He knew shrinking potions, even just for transportation, made them lose several of their main properties, severely weakening them if he was lucky, reversing their effects if he wasn't. He scanned the room, searching for anything more he could use, grabbing a vial of an unmarked substance absent-mindedly and apperated back to the hospital wing, now sure enough to apparate right beside Severus.

This time the awe of the students was tiring fast. It reminded him too much of his time in this godforsaken school.

"I am afraid, Phoenix, that I cannot allow you to take Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. Harry raised an eyebrow, glad that Dumbledore thought he was enough of a threat not to call him Harry. 'Not your golden boy any more, am I?' he thought rather savagely.

"I'm afraid, Dumbledore, that you can't do anything to stop me," Harry retorted, not fazed in the slightest. "You see I am not about to let Severus die, and prior to popular belief, you have no power over me."

"Harry…" Dumbledore began instinctively.

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT!" Harry bellowed, his face twisted in uncontrollable wrath. "_Incendia everto!" _he added while pointing at Dumbledore. The man looked ill for a moment and leaned forward like he was going to throw up. When he finally had to open his mouth it was in anguish as a fire demon leapt out, jumping into his robes, clearly scalding the material and burning the headmaster. A second and a third made it out before Dumbledore worked out a counter-curse.

Harry watched all this in pure amusement.

"Interesting isn't it?" he asked in mild tones. "And today I was being nice, Dumbledore. I will warn you now, a member of the public who is particularly stupid is going to get a visit tomorrow, and they will not be as lucky as you."

Harry spat on the floor at the headmaster's feet before removing the shield above Severus with a twitch of his finger and grasped the man firmly by the hand.

"Vengeance is sweet, Dumbledore. And it's always a bit sweeter with a touch of pain, don't you agree?" Harry smiled sweetly, his white teeth flashing in furious contrast to his stormy green eyes. Then he disappeared with a loud crack, once more manipulating the wards of the castle.

Harry stumbled slightly when he reappeared in Birch Hall. He wasn't weak and his magic had barely been touched that day but his whole body was shivering from the effort it had taken to keep control and not kill Dumbledore right then and there, on top of realising that a man he would have sworn under Veritiserum he had seen being killed was alive, albeit sick, and apperating and dissaperating against some very strong wards he was feeling rather tired.

'_Dobby,' _he began to the house-elf who was already beside him with Augurey. '_Prepare a guest room, the most comfortable one. Make sure it is completely clean, sterile and ready for a sick patient. I want all of the labelled potions here put on shelves directly beside the bed and the unlabelled one in my lab downstairs.' _

"Dobby would be happy to, Master Phoenix," the house-elf complied with a bow. He clicked his fingers and disappeared.

_How did it go? _Augurey asked dryly, apparently guessing by Harry's state. The man glared at him.

'_I really need a drink,' _Harry complained, rubbing his throat. The yelling had made him hoarse. Augurey shook his head in amusement and started to bring a thought to his mind, _'Don't say it!' _Harry snapped.

_Wasn't gunna, _Augurey laughed as his young friend stalked off to the kitchens to get a glass of water, followed by something significantly stronger.

**A/N: **Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers! You all mean so much to me. As you can see, Snarry just can't happen with Severus. But you'll have to wait to discover how he didn't die in the first place and how he goes now. Feedback on this story is really important to me since I'm experimenting with a few ideas I've never seen implemented before which can be dangerous. Please give me your opinions.

**Next Posting (Probably next week): **The fight for Severus' life begins – can Harry do the impossible? In **Chapter Two: **Yet to be titled.


	2. Failure, fears and blood

**Chapter Two: Failure, fears and blood. **

**Warnings: Same as before.**

Harry sighed as he rested his head against the cool bricks beside the sink in the kitchen, glancing at the chair he had placed the unconscious Severus in. He shivered slightly and felt how draining the experience had been, emotionally at least. He hated his former mentor with a passion, he wanted revenge but seeing that look in the old man's eyes, goddamn shock and horror, disappointment and fear, it dug into Harry like a knife and twisted. He could feel his Gryffindor side fighting his Slytherin side fiercely, for he knew which one was controlling him now.

He slammed his glass down on the counter a little harder than intended in his anger and heard it splinter. He glanced at the shards as they dug into his palm and gave a weary, disinterested sigh. Running a hand through his rampant hair he shook off the better part of the glass, grabbed Severus and stormed towards the guest room Dobby would have set up by now.

'No more letting yourself go,' he scolded himself firmly. 'You've got someone to be responsible for now.'

Harry watched the blood dripping down his hand in fascination as it left a trail behind him, staining the stones he trod upon, spiralling up the stairs as he did. It was amazing how much a physical pain helped sometimes to get out the injuries he was feeling on the inside. Harry realised abruptly that he had arrived outside the room he was to place Severus in, sterile as requested.

'No sense in ruining it already,' he sighed, waving his bloody hand in the air to clean and heal it, removing the few blood stains on his suit at the same time.

Once he was sure he was completely free of any volatile substances he entered the room, walking over to the huge double bed Dobby had made up neatly, the crisp white sheets and blankets turned back slightly for easier access and a deep auburn duvet pulled back at the end for use if the night got colder. Harry laid Severus down gently, slipping the body under the crisp sheets and pulling the corners of the blankets and sheets up to the potion master's shoulders.

'_You're at Birch Hall, Severus...' _Harry trailed off, realising telepathy wouldn't work with this man. Irritated that he had to speak again in less then twenty-four hours he opened his mouth to start his explanation again.

"You're at Birch Hall, Severus. It's my home…of sorts. I took you from Hogwarts before Dumbledore could finish what he failed so miserably at the first time. I'll be taking care of you. Sorry, but I nicked some of your potions. I'm guessing they're the best of the best though, so you're going to need them," Harry paused for a second, massaging his throat. His voice was raspy and crackling now. "I'm not half bad myself any more, I did pay attention in most of your classes you know. I'll take over once your stocks run out, and I'll try not to poison you."

He stopped talking, his throat sore once again and his words turning into meaningless jumble. Hell, the man probably couldn't hear him anyway. He turned away and began to rustle through the potions Dobby had set out nicely on three shelves beside him where he had easy access.

Without spells he could tell the man was in desperate need of blood replenishment and was angry that he had not been given any. What kind of sick person could watch someone just die like this, slowly bleed away into oblivion when there was something that could be done about it? Harry ignored how hypocritical the thought was considering the fact he planned to do murder tomorrow. He had become exceedingly good at justifying his own wrongs.

Grabbing a bottle of Restorative potion he turned back to Severus. God the man seemed even paler then usual in this light. Harry leaned over and gently pried the man's jaw open. It was a struggle to say the least. He snorted, trust Severus to be difficult even when he was unconscious. Finally the jaw unlocked and fell open just enough for Harry to pour the red potion into it and his other hand gently stroked Severus's throat, encouraging the comatose body to swallow. Even then it was hard going until the body reluctantly obeyed.

"Damnit Severus, don't make this difficult," he growled, his voice thick with worry. It wasn't usually this hard to make an unconscious person drink their potions.

Turning back to the shelf he placed the empty bottle on the third shelf down, to remind himself that he was one down and would be required to make a replacement. He grabbed his wand and ran it once down and once back up Severus's body, doing a basic examination. A piece of paper appeared 'out of' the end of Harry's wand. He grabbed it and read it with a frown. He was dizzy, despite being comatose, and there was a dark patch in his stomach, obviously some kind of poison that would have to be flushed out.

What was there for that? Harry scanned the shelves in interest, seeing several bottles of Oblivion Substance up there he decided he would have Dobby return them to Hogwarts. Sometimes the suggestion was just too tempting. Shaking himself into action he continued to search for what he needed. The Level-Head potion should do for the dizziness, he decided but he was unable to find anything for flushing out poison. He frowned, he was sure it would have been something Severus would have wanted with him in case of sabotage, the man was paranoid!

After a few more minutes hapless scrambling he decided that he would just have to brew his own. He returned to Severus's mouth, luckily this time still slightly opened. Pouring the Level-Head potion down the less-then-willing throat he re-checked his patient. Harry jerked back in horror when the results arrived.

Immediately he grabbed Severus by the side and turned him over to check if his results were correct. After pouring the blood potion down his professor's throat he had, stupidly, not rechecked the blood-levels. They were rapidly decreasing as blood came gushing out of what had previous been a healed wound in Severus's back. He paled at how much blood was being lost. This was obviously part of the curse he had been hit with.

"Er…shit…shit…_ signum quod habitum!" _he bellowed finally in desperation. He waved his wand over the wound, shaking as it successfully sealed up the gap, though did not heal it. He could see no normal healing spells would work on this. The blood was causing the spell he had placed on it to bulge, a terrifying thing at the best of times. What could he use to heal it?

'_Dobby!' _he called silently, the terror in his system threatening to overwhelm him. What if he had bitten off more then he could chew?

"Sir?" the house-elf squeaked, appearing immediately.

'_I need you to get the book that is on the side of my armchair in the library and hurry!' _Harry commanded, worry lacing his thoughts.

"Yes Master Phoenix," Dobby bowed, disappearing even as he did so. He reappeared a second later with the book. Dark Arts: The counter-curses your enemies should never know. It had been a special addition, only twenty had ever been made, eleven had been destroyed when Dark Wizards and Witches had been in the brink of death, rather then allow their enemies to save themselves. Three were believed lost forever, two currently resided in Harry's library downstairs and as to the rest he couldn't fathom a guess. Nor did he particularly care.

He began to flick through it furiously, unsure of what he was looking for because the cures in here were listed by the curses which had caused them. The curse which had struck Severus was unknown, or Avada Kedavra which, of course, had no counter-curse.

_May I ask what you're searching for? _Aurgurey asked from the doorway. He looked a little anxious at his friend's state.

'_I need a healing spell or potion, any kind, to heal that wound,' _Harry replied, gesturing rather wildly towards the bulging wound. The build up of blood was worrisome to say the least.

_And you are searching through a book why exactly? _Augurey demanded, boy the man could be dense!

'_Because I am unaware of a spell to fix it you idiot!' _Harry snarled with impatient sarcasm.

_Uh huh, I'm the idiot? I'm not the one searching for a wizarding healing spell when he's currently in possession of a far more superior spell, _Augurey growlednot happy to be the target of Harry's frustration release.

Harry jerked his head up, startled.

'_Shit, of course! How could I have been so…' _Leaving that train of thought where it was he pushed the rare book to the floor and leaned closer to Severus. Unfortunately he would have to break the previous enchantment to use his own powers of healing, not something he was looking forward to.

Taking a deep breath and searching inside himself for the healing magic which had been a gift from the Acromantula he had helped the previous year, he made sure he was completely ready and used a '_finite incantatum'_ in his mind. He had been expecting something awful but he really wasn't ready for quite so much blood. It spurted out all over him, soaking his impeccable clothes.

Harry brought his need to heal to the very front of his mind, as he had identified this as the key to working the Acromantula magic. He felt a strange tingling in the spot in his stomach and back that associated itself with the Acromantula's areas for web spinning as he moved his hands close to the wound, covering the gushing blood with his palms.

'_Heal,' _he willed, his face contorted in concentration. A faint spluttering came from somewhere in him, almost like fizzy lemonade bubbles but that was it. '_NO! Heal damnit!' _A faint white mist dribbled from his fingers. He swore and prayed the curse wasn't interfering with his magic. It had just been a while since he had used it on humans, he told himself.

Okay, okay, this time he would be okay. This time he would do it.

'_Come on! HEAL!' _he was snarling at himself now. The white mist evaporated and his fingers sagged slightly.

"SHIT!" he yelled in frustration, waving his hand in the air again to seal but not heal the wound. Augurey jumped slightly, not having heard his carer speak out loud since his rescue.

Harry got shakily to his feet, tears of fury and frustration in his eyes. It had been a long time since he had used his healing magic on humans, yes, but it had always worked! He hated feeling like his magic was restricted.

_Phoenix? _Augurey asked carefully.

'_Not now Aug, please just keep an eye on him and tell me the _second_ something changes.' _

Hearing the despondency in Harry's voice Augurey agreed immediately.

_I think you should head down to the library anyway, one of you friends are waiting for you, _he advised.

Harry looked surprised. The only real friends he had anymore were Augurey, Hedwig, Dobby and a couple of wild creatures.

_It's a Graphorn,_ theDemiguise advised softly. _Hurt quite badly. _

'_Well it'd have to be to come to me for help now wouldn't it?' _Harry demanded sarcastically, the shock no longer apparent. He wasn't looking forward to dealing with a Graphorn. Their horns were not only good potions ingredients, but very sharp weapons. Not to mention their hides were better at repelling spells then dragons!

He continued his way downstairs and Augurey saw the Dark Arts book float after him. Harry frowned, he hoped his powers would work with the Graphorn, they were most unforgiving for mistakes or lies. And due to the large amount of animals he had healed since coming to Birch Hall it was inevitable that if he couldn't do the same for the Graphorn it would think he wanted it dead for its horn or something.

He entered the library with a nod to the Graphorn standing by the fireplace. It had to have travelled a long way to get here, they usually lived in Europe. The hump-backed, grey creature stared at Harry intensely, swaying slightly on its four thumbed feet, letting Harry know unconsciously that it was badly wounded. Both of its horns looked immensely sharp and Harry sent up another prayer that he would be able to help it.

He settled down into his favourite chair by the fire and called to mind the language he was going to speak. Unlike many of his other languages, he had not been given this as a gift by a grateful customer. This one he had learned himself, believing being able to converse with dangerous beasts could only be an asset, although with his big mouth he was probably just inflame the situation.

"Good afternoon," he said semi-fluently. "How may I help you?"

_I am capable of telepathy. I have heard it is your preferred communication. _The Graphorn was crisp but not cruel in his speech.

'_It would be preferable, yes. Thank-you. What can I do for you?' _Harry repeated courteously. He had not intentions of pissing this visitor off.

_I was attacked by a troll, _the Graphorn growled. _Bastard tried to ride me. _

Harry ignored the accidental double entendre, guessing his twisted humour would not amuse the wounded Graphorn.

'_Alright, I'm going to do a basic examination, hold still please.'_

He knelt down next to the creature and ran his hand just above the Graphorn's body the height, length and width of the creature, calculating the injury. Three broken ribs, broken hind leg, eight broken toes 'thumbs', nasty gash over the left lung, _collapsed_ left lung and his windpipe was partially crushed.

Harry waved his hand absently at the wardrobe he had a stock of healing potions in next to the fire and it flew open, three potions flying towards him. He caught the first one deftly and put it down before catching the other two as well.

'_Please drink this, it's for the pain, then I'll fix your windpipe,' _Harry told his patient apologetically. He knew it would hurt to swallow but healing could be a nasty business and the more of his injuries he couldn't feel the less pain he would be in.

The Graphorn obeyed with a strange face. It clearly hurt but the creature kept the agony out of his face, though it flickered into his dark eyes.

'_Right, I'm going to fix your windpipe now, please stand still." _Harry hoped he wasn't going to lose his powers right now because a Graphorn while it felt pain was dangerous. One who could stave off the pain by the use of potion was deadly.

Harry shook away the thoughts and placed his want to heal at the front of his mind, resting both of his hands gently around the beast's neck. He felt it vibrate slightly as the creature growled in warning. 'Heal,' he willed silently. He felt the familiar tug at his stomach and lower back and watched in relief as white magic poured from his fingers and settled on the outside of the neck before falling into it, as though being absorbed.

The windpipe, despite being out of his touch, was physically swelling with air as the compressed areas opened wide again, Harry could feel the inflation. He heard as well as felt the breath that rushed up the windpipe and left the Graphorn's mouth as a grateful sigh.

'_Feel better?' _Harry inquired, all the while wondering why this wouldn't work with Severus.

_Much, I can breathe. Thank-you. _

Harry applied the rest of his administrations quickly, the gash was next and healed rather easily as it was fairly shallow. Then came the broken thumbs and ankle, allowing the Graphorn to stand at ease. The ribs were hard but manageable, but the lung caused a bit of a problem. The windpipe had been close enough to the skin that simply resting his hand on the outside of the neck had been sufficient to work the magic, what Harry had to do now repulsed him as much as it worried him.

'_Excuse me sir, the lung will need to be repaired by way of quick contact. I require your permission to use a skin peeling spell and to move your ribs. It will only take a minute at most but it will be rather painful. As soon as the lung is healed everything will be put to rights and you will feel as good as new,' _Harry explained, his stomach twisting in disgust.

The Graphorn looked surprised, even a little angry but it passed quickly and Harry realised with gratitude that they expression that replaced it was trust.

'_Very well,' _he inclined his head. Whether that was actually encouragement or a reminder that he had two very sharp horns Harry wasn't sure.

He pulled out his wand finally, he was feeling a little drained and he needed his powers to help Severus.

'_This is really going to hurt but I need you to stand dead still for me or it could go very awry alright?' _

_Yes, please get on with it, _the Graphorn said with barely veiled impatience.

Harry took a deep breath to steady his mind and flicked his wand, muttering the incantation to ensure no mistake was made in the delicate situation. As soon as the gaping wound opened up he dove his hand through, winding past the ribs as he brought his need to heal and heal fast to the foremost lot of thoughts in his mind.

He felt the lung inflate almost immediately and withdrew hastily, fixing the ribs with a flick of his wand and hurriedly using his Acromantula powers to sew up the wound he had created.

His hand was covered in gore and what little of his robes and body that had not been covered with blood before now clearly were. Only his face held clean spots, around his eyes nose and mouth although his chin still had splatters of deep crimson and his hair was streaked with it.

The Graphorn straightened up and stretched, convincing itself that it was truly healed. He turned to Harry who had moved to slump shakily in his chair. He bowed slightly.

_My eternal thanks, Lord Phoenix, _he said, his voice less crisp then in his greeting. Harry started. It was the first time he had been referred to as 'Lord' to his face. To his own shock he found himself rather liking the title.

'_It was my pleasure,' _he replied with a nod.

_Please accept my gift, _the Graphorn continued, pulling something out of a small hidden away area of skin. He laid it at Harry's feet and the young wizard recognised it as a rather large horn.

'_I accept your gift, but I must acknowledge that it is a huge gesture. Should you or your family be in need of my services you may come, I will heal and no repayment is necessary,' _Harry said, his voice revealing his honest appreciation of the token action. It was a large one, because someone had either sacrificed one of their weapons, though it would grow back in time it would take a while, or they had defiled one of their own dead to give it to him. 'No repayment' sounded rather bad but it was all he could say, though it made it sound like repayment was necessary, rather then optional which it was.

_Thank-you, Lord Phoenix. I shall pass on your sentiments to my family. Eternal good health be yours. _The Graphorn inclined his head again before turning his neck to scratch his back twice with his horn, the only magical act Graphorn's could perform, it was almost like a permanent portkey and would take him straight home.

He straightened and looked at Harry once more before he disappeared.

Harry slumped wearily down in his chair, his whole body trembling with suppressed exhaustion. It had been a very, very long day. More then anything, his healing could drain his magic. That on top of several very powerful and dark spells, a very short period of sleep and the amount of magic it had taken to break through Hogwarts apparating wards four times and he was utterly fatigued.

He realised he couldn't stop the shaking. The last time he had felt like this he had stolen a puff from Dudley's asthma puffer. He had gotten asthma when he was younger along with his cousin but he had never been given one of the plastic puffers to help ease his suffering. Once it had just been sitting there on the bench after he'd come in from mowing the lawn as fast as he could to avoid a verbal thrashing and a week without food and he'd taken three puffs in quick succession.

After Uncle Vernon had seen him do it he had throw Harry into the cupboard, screaming at him for putting his 'filthy mouth' on Dudley's medicine and Harry had spent the whole night trembling on his small mattress. In honesty he might have been shaking from fear, but it was the same feeling he was getting now.

Every single fibre in his body was telling him he needed rest, he needed sleep and time to recuperate. He felt like his nerves were buzzing and he had a strange ringing in his ears. His eyes flickered closed but he forced them open. It took away all of his willpower. He had to stay awake, he had to find a cure for Severus.

He felt the earth shudder beneath him and his head jerked up. Oh god, not now. Surely not…shit. He'd forgotten. He had apperated through his own wards that day. Normally it was no issue, he was, of course, keyed in. But today he had been carrying Severus, he had been forced to lower his apperation wards. He had thrown some rather weak ones up temporarily in their stead. How could he have been so stupid?

Harry forced himself to his feet. What was usually a graceful movement, now that he had fully grown into his features and gangly teenage body, he had matured fast, was more of a lurch and a stumble. His hand clutched the hilt of his wand. He felt suddenly like the slightest bit of wandless magic, even a simple _lumos _could drain him completely.

He limped towards the Entrance Foyer, where he knew his uninvited guests would enter. Who the hell would be stupid enough to come here? Even without the apperation wards he had numerous strong wards up all the time to cause people to believe there was no house here, that the woods would eat them alive with the horrible creatures that dwelled within. The list was long, only someone who was aware of the house, or had a target spell on a person within the house could…

Albus Dumbledore. The old man must have put a spell on Severus before Harry had apperated away from Hogwarts. The spell would not have worked on Harry, his shields were too strong. Severus, it must have been. Harry firmed his grip on his wand and lifted his glamour to make himself appear in better condition then he was, despite how draining the spell was.

He forgot about the blood.

A/N: Thank you very much for the encouraging reviews all! It's the most reviews I've ever gotten on one chapter. I hope this story lives up to expectations!

Next Week: Harry has to deal with a few people he didn't want to see again for some time. And his plans start into action. That's **Chapter Three: Unwelcome Visitors**


	3. Unwelcome Visitors

**Chapter Three: Unwelcome Visitors**

The doors in front of him opened and three figures stepped through.

Harry's heart sped up until it was almost a steady hum. He felt his breath catch in his throat. The son-of-a-bitch. The stupid little pricks. They had a lot of nerve, coming here. For a moment he felt his conviction waver. Maybe he needn't make them wait. Maybe he couldn't stand to give them time to watch all of their friends die, as they had made him. Maybe he could kill them all right now.

He shook himself. Maybe that wouldn't be enough. No, they needed to pay.

"Get the fuck out of my house," he snarled, his voice low, hoarse and pained but his eyes showed his conviction.

"Phoenix, we need to talk," Dumbledore said softly, not taking heed of Harry's command. Harry opened his mouth to retort when the second person broke the silence with a gasp.

"H…Phoenix…is…is that blood?" Hermione stammered, her face pale. Harry noted with satisfaction that his little lesson to Dumbledore had been heeded, she hadn't called him by his filthy old name. "Are…are you hurt?"

"It is blood, for a supposedly bright witch you certainly state some damn obvious things," Harry sneered. "And it is not my blood, but that's fine, because it's also not mudblood."

Harry stood stock still for a second, where the hell had that come from? He had never, _ever_ had anything against muggle-borns. Against Hermione yes, but muggle-borns in general didn't bother him at all. The shock on his own face probably mimicked that of his 'companions'.

"Don't you dare talk to her like that," spat Ron, stepped slightly in front of Hermione.

"Oh I'm sorry, are we following proper etiquette Weasel?" Harry spat, his voice laced with derision and sarcasm. "Well excuse me, I didn't realise considering I don't remember inviting any of you into my home."

"Phoenix, please calm yourself," Dumbledore began again.

"Fuck you," Harry snarled, his eyes blazing fury. He could hear Augurey moving from Severus's room to investigate. "STAY THERE AUGUREY, DO NOT MOVE FROM HIS SIDE!" he roared, irate that the Demiguise would dare to leave his charge, even for a moment.

_Okay, calm down. I was just going to make sure you were alright, _came Augurey's voice through his mind.

'_I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,' _Harry spat back.

"H…Phoenix, we really need to talk," Hermione tried again, obviously getting over her hurt. "There's been a massive misunderstanding…"

"You're telling me?" Harry sneered. "Yeah, I misunderstood that you weren't my friends. I misunderstood that you didn't have my good intentions at heart. I misunderstood that you enjoyed my torment."

"No Harry it's…" Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth in shocked realisation as the name that had fallen so easily from her lips for six years slipped again. Harry's face was stormy but he didn't raise his hand.

"I will not tell you again," he snarled, breathing furiously through his nostrils. "Do not call me that and get out of my house!"

"No. We need to talk, mate," Ron said, stepping forward, his face bolder then he was no doubt feeling, facing down the most powerful wizard of the time, who happened to be coated in someone else's blood. It didn't bode well.

Harry was swaying slightly. He couldn't do this right now.

"GET OUT!" his voice was forceful as he realised he was close to passing out and he needed to preserve his strength. As loathe as he was to do in front of these…these…things, he flicked his wand in the direction of the library and a deep green potion flew out towards him. He downed it in one go and threw the vial to the ground where it shattered, causing two of the three in front of him to flinch.

It was a simple Pepper-Up potion, laced with his tears. The tears had come from a suggestion Severus had given him during a lesson the previous year in Dreamless Sleep potions. He felt himself straighten immediately, and let a little of his glamour down. He would never have done that if he could have foreseen the consequences.

In general, Harry didn't bother about his appearance any more, barring the glamour. He rarely looked in mirrors, and when he did his glamour was always in place, so he never really saw how bad what was beneath it was. He also hadn't realised how much his glamour was needed. He had given them a crack to peer through.

"Oh Phoenix…" Hermione whispered, her voice dripping compassion that Harry didn't want to hear.

He didn't see what they could have seen. He was unaware that they could see his sallow face, his green eyes dulled and crazed at the same time, driven to insanity by the loss of so many he had loved, ripped away even in life. They could see the tight and painful set of his lips as he tried to hold himself firm in his beliefs. He didn't realise they saw the shadows that fell into huge bags beneath his distraught emerald eyes, nor the tear streaks that still lay there from whenever he had last cried. They saw his trembling, his fear, hurt and rejection.

Harry knew nothing but the fact that someone he had once called a best friend had just covered the ground between them to grab him and his bloody robes in a tight embrace.

"Oh Phoenix," she repeated. Harry wanted so much to pretend right then that the previous year had all been some kind of horrible dream. Some kind of nightmare that he was about to wake up from with Ron peering worriedly over him, his freckles and bright flaming hair the first thing apparent to Harry's foggy gaze. He wanted to sink into that embrace, to allow the care and love to envelope him.

He remembered, with a sudden violent start and a shot of pain, all that these people had put him through. This was all part of that stupid, fucking, thrill! The thrill they got out of tormenting him, out of forcing him to kill people and watch people he cared about being killed. He flicked his wand subtly in his grip and suddenly, with a vicious force, Hermione was thrown off him and flew through the air to slam into the stone wall, hard.

"Hermione!" Ron bolted to her side. Harry sneered, remembering how that used to be something Ron would do with him when he was hurt. He stepped backwards, assuming they would leave now, only to find himself stumbling.

He coughed slightly, and realised with a horrified start that he had overtaxed himself. The biggest problem with Pepper-Up potions was that once you had taken them your ability to estimate when your magic had diminished was significantly weakened.

'Shit,' he thought as he stumbled again, trying in vain to reach the library.

"Phoenix?" Dumbledore's concerned voice cut through his mind but he found himself too weak to respond. "Harry?" the name was said in a soft, testing, hesitant way which told Harry he was worried about him… 'Sure he is,' the nasty little voice in his head sneered. 'He's just worried that you aren't going to die right now and he'll have to deal with you himself.'

Harry sent a glare Dumbledore's way but couldn't bring himself to so much as attempt to yell at the Professor. He coughed again and felt a little blood dribble from the side of his mouth.

'Oh well, one for the course,' he mumbled in his mind. He grabbed onto the library doorway before he collapsed, turning his body slowly to lean against the wall and facing the intruders. Hermione had gotten to her feet with Ron's help and they had re-joined Dumbledore with those damn fake-concern looks plastered on their faces. Harry shuddered.

"Get…out…of…my…house," he snarled, aware of himself slipping a little down the wall.

"Phoenix? What is the matter my dear boy?" Dumbledore asked, much to Harry's disgust.

"Not…your…boy…get…out…" he gasped in pain and clutched his forehead. His scar was burning again, letting him know he was thoroughly over-exerting himself. He saw the three of them coming closer as he slid further down the wall. "Shit…" He could feel the inevitable faint coming on.

The previous year he had made friends with a dragon. The same dragon he had helped free in his first year at Hogwarts. Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback. Having had to call for Norbert's help more then once, Harry had discovered the beast was able to hear his calls of distress no matter how loud or quiet they were. Harry just hoped the same could be said for the other creature friends' he had in this forest.

"Help," he muttered, his voice as loud as he could muster as his word spun. "Get-them-out," he gasped, feeling movement upstairs. "Augurey…stay…put…"

The last thing Harry knew was the rumbling of animal hooves coming towards the manor before the darkness overtook him.

_Phoenix, Phoenix. Wake up. Come on… _Augurey's voice cut through his mindless and rather dark dreams. Harry screamed out as he woke, thrashing violently at anything in his way. _Phoenix, calm yourself, _Augurey command sharply.

'_Wh…' _Harry sat bolt upright, his eyes hurriedly scanning the room for any damage or sighting of his unwanted guests.

_They have gone. The creatures of the forest came to your aid._

Harry let out a sigh of relief, before realising where he was.

'_How did I get up here?' _he demanded, his voice thick with accusation. Augurey shot him a look, telling him he should know better then that before answering.

_I had Dobby bring you up when your snake friend Tranwth told me what had happened, _he replied reproachfully. _I never left his side. _

Harry scrambled to his feet, his face pale.

'_How long have I been out? Has there been any change in his condition?' _

At a quick glance it would seem nothing had changed about Severus's condition, barring the slightly larger bulge in the magic Harry had secured around the wound, and his face a little more ashen, a great feat indeed. Augurey shook his head.

_You were only out for about twenty minutes, although I spent all twenty trying to get you to wake up. He's alright, although that cure might be nice, _added the Demiguise sarcastically.

'_Yeah, coz I've had that much time haven't I?' _Harry snarled, heaving himself to his feet and crawling to the chair he had placed beside Severus's bed. He ran his wand up and down Severus, the only magic he knew his body would allow. No change. _'I'm going to the library. I'm flooing this time. The _minute_ the condition changes…' _he trailed off warningly as Augurey rolled his eyes.

_Yes, yes. Move on._

Harry walked towards the fire, grabbing a handful of Floo power as he went. He threw it into the blazing fire, shot one last glare at Augurey and stepped in.

"The library," he murmured.

As usual he felt nauseous as he stumbled, covered with ash, stark contrast to the blood, from the fireplace. Whoever invented floo should really, really be in hell. In fact they probably were, god only knows what could have gone wrong while trying to perfect the mixture, where that person ran off course to.

Harry set his mind on course and steered himself towards the bookshelves, grabbing down as many books as he could find that might help him in his quest, most of them dark. The full Dark Arts set were, of course, added to the pile. Then he sat down and began his studies, all the while horribly aware that he was sitting defenceless, and without apperation wards up, after threatening the currently most powerful wizard in the world.

In short. If Dumbledore thought to return, he was screwed.

Harry woke up the next day with a start, but feeling better for the short, if uncalled for rest he had taken. His magic supplies were up again. They were unusually fast at rejuvenating themselves, or so Severus had told him sometime previous. That was good, or else he wouldn't have been able to keep his promise to Dumbledore, and it wouldn't do for the old man to think Harry was bluffing.

Today one Reberta Williams was going to have a very large shock. That is, if she lived long enough for the shock to set in. His face twisted into a smirk. It was a very ugly look for him. He hoped Dumbledore would turn up in time to watch the show. He mentally filed away the spells and dark curses he intended to use before standing and taking a deep breath. His face crinkled into disgust. The dry blood had begun to go rancid.

A wave of his wand, he still needed to preserve energy, and his clothes changed. He wore a pale blue shirt with wavy black lines travelling in random directions from the buttons. His pants were denim jeans, dark blue with iron burns on them. And over the top he wore scarlet robes. They fitted just right, and swept out around him like Severus's did when he was intimidating a potions class.

Harry did not like robes in general, they were so arduous and cumbersome, but today a little power and formality seemed necessary. Besides, scarlet robes signified blood in whatever world you lived in. It would get his message across quite satisfactorily.

Once he was presented as he wished to be, Harry began his journey to Severus's rooms. Choosing this time to save himself the nausea, though it was using a little of his much-needed energy to walk up the marble stairs. He arrived at the door and pushed it open to find Augurey still sitting patiently by Severus's bed, watching the man out of dark, solemn eyes.

_No change, although you may wish to re-new that spell soon._

Harry nodded wordlessly, seeing that the build up of blood behind his white magic had indeed began to seep through. He waved his wand and the bulge fought back, pushing hard against the insistent blood until it lay flat again Severus's skin once more.

He fiddled with the potions on the shelf, giving another one for the dizziness and a blood-replenishing potion, hurriedly re-firming the spell to avoid this one making the blood rush from his friend's body once more. At least it got some colour into the sallow cheeks.

'_That should hold him out until I get back,' _he murmured softly, wiping a very greasy strand of hair out of the Professor's face. _'Then we wash this hair.'_

_Where are you going? _Augurey demanded, his suspicion clear.

'_To get my point across once and for all,' _Harry growled, his face set in resolve.

_I knew you got out those robes for a reason, _the Demiguise murmured, looking resigned. _Take care._

'_Of course,' _Harry rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and disapperated from the room.

A/N: Well this is later then I intended it to be, but it required a bit of work and starting year twelve has made for a hectic schedule. This means my updating will be a bit less consistent now. Also only two reviews didn't exactly spur movement. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to my two reviewers, LadyMegsie and FREAKY CHICK. Thanks for your support guys.

Next Chapter: Harry manages to draw Dumbledore's attention, but not for a good reason. And he closes in on a cure for Severus. Soon in Chapter Four: **Shocks and surprises**


	4. Shocks and surprises

**Chapter Four: Shocks and surprises**

Harry smiled as he appeared with a crack in front of a plain-looking home in the middle of a small wizarding colony just outside of Yorkshire. It was an old-style building, very much like the cottages the muggles wrote about so fondly in their novels about England. Ivey creeping over the thatched roof, the white and brown cottage walls looking quaint when compared to the beautiful rose bushes blooming below the windows.

How Harry hated it.

He hated the normality it represented. The life he could never have. What had been snatched out from under him, even as he was born into a family of wanted parents. Well there was a perfect way to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. But first…

The first curse he sent off was purely for show. He had always loved theatrics, just not the kind that Severus had always so snidely believed. He turned the chimney, as picturesque as it was, into a miniature dragon, which shot up into the sky with the force of a rocket, charring the thatched roof and bursting out in a magnificent bay of agony which rattled rooftops and echoed for miles before bursting into a spectacular blaze of titanic proportions, spitting flame at the small cottage and the surrounding village.

Harry put out the cottage in front of him with a bored wave of his hand, leaving the other houses to burn. That had been to catch Dumbledore's attention, and that of any occupants of the house, ensuring they would do exactly as he wanted. And they did.

Three people ran out. A young woman, looking confused and scared in her nightgown. A small boy, who looked about seven and was staring at the burning rooftops in awe, as if it was the most amazing sight he had ever laid eyes on. And a man about Harry's age, his brown locks falling down to his shoulder as he glanced once around the surrounding area and then locked his gaze on Harry, hidden in the shadows.

"OY! You, what the hell are you playing at?" the wizard demanded, drawing his wand angrily. The rest of the neighbours had decided to come out and play too. Harry allowed an malicious smile to grace his features as he waved his hand and a small fire appeared on the palm, the flames dancing across his features mockingly, before twitching a little higher, past the haunted eyes to the infamous scar.

From somewhere a few doors down he heard the awed gasp and a murmur went up.

"It's the Dark Phoenix!"

Harry felt a sinister thrill go through his body as many of them looked fearful and scampered back inside their houses, stopping only momentarily to put out the fires on their roofs and in their gardens.

"W-what d-do you want?" stammered the man, his face pasty white as he stepped slightly to the side so his son could cower more properly behind his pants.

"I come to extract payment for an idiocy so great even I cringe to think about it," Harry snarled, his voice booming with supremacy and commanding attention.

"I do not know what you're talking about. I am merely a butcher, and my wife a mother to our child. We never followed the Dark Lord," the man stammered.

"Indeed?" Harry's face showed disbelief as he cocked one eyebrow up and examined the poor excuse for a man in front of him. "No. You wouldn't have had the guts. You would have died weeping in a corner if he'd even seen fit to ask you to. However, that was not the idiocy I was referring too."

"Then I am afraid you are mistaken. We have never…" 

"SILENCE!" Harry's voice quivered with fury. "I am not mistaken. Your wife may even be aware of her own folly as she weeps in a way she has no right to. For I believe she has never had every single person she has ever cared about snatched from her very grasp, by their own devices no less. Nor has she ever seen the few who stood their ground be crushed like ants under the foot of power, seen as nothing more then a slight predicament in a far larger picture."

"Reberta?" the man's voice was a hoarse, terrified whisper as he turned to his wife, pleading with his eyes to say Harry was a madman, that she had done nothing to draw down his wrath.

"I'm sorry," she cried wildly. "I…I…the letter was old…I forgot…then…I…oh Merlin Sam I'm sorry."

Her husband was ashen as he turned back to Harry, setting himself firmly in front of Reberta and his son who was crying large tears of innocence now.

"If…if you want to kill her…you-you'll have to kill me too," he murmured, his voice showing no conviction as he wilted under Harry's sneering gaze.

"I intend to," Harry chuckled mirthlessly. Sam visibly quailed. "Oh, yes. But that would be no fun now would it? Just a simple green light and death? No. No. You see I've had some time now, holed up by myself, to practice various branches of magic that one Albus Dumbledore doesn't teach at Hogwarts. I can't imagine why, fascinating stuff, Dark Magic."

A horrified gasp fell from someone's lips as Harry's face set in a grim line.

"The only problem is there is no one to test the curses on. And now I believe I have three volunteers."

"NO! You won't harm Jeremy!" Reberta gasped, pulling her son to her.

"You should have thought of that before now shouldn't you?" Harry sneered. "But I think I'll leave him to last. I find that when an innocent screams it truly revitalises the body and soul. Now…what first…ah…of course. This always seemed like a good one…" He paused for effect, and to give the idiot of a man a chance to put up his weak shields. "_Acidic exuro," _he hissed, with a flick of his wand.

As expected, the curse cut through the shield like butter. The man was flat on his back on the ground within seconds and the curse was as effective as expected. Harry smiled, there was no jesting in his eyes though, pure and un-quashed hatred danced in a feral manner.

Sam was screaming, Reberta was crying, as was little Jeremy, and Harry let his laughter ring through the street as everyone watched the curse in action. It was far more effective then he had expected, though he had it well under control, no need to stop the fun quite so fast.

The spell was like acid, beginning at Sam's toes it gnawed away at the skin, burning and causing excruciating agony as, bit by bit, the man's leg was eaten up by invincible acid. The man screamed and shrieked, clawing at his legs, tearing up bits of skin through his pyjama pants, spurting blood as he tried to do anything to stop the pain.

His screams were worse then any Harry had ever heard and his smile turned into more malicious cackles. They were worse then the ones he had heard coming from five-year-olds under _Cruciatus_. The acid grew higher, disintegrating skin, muscle and bone alike, until it reached just below the man's groin, where Harry gave a second flick of his wrist and halted the curse.

Sam continued to scream and writhe in agony.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!"

"Yes I am rather that way aren't I?" Harry smirked. "Unfortunately it was people like you who made me this way, so you're just going to have to pay back what they took from me."

Harry heard the power crackling in his voice, and the spittle of lightening dancing in his hair once more. How he did enjoy showing them that he was not going to be taken for a ride any more. That he had power and he was not afraid to use it for his own means.

"What next I wonder?" Harry looked falsely thoughtful, twirling his wand between his fingers, only to freeze a second later, remembering that it was something Voldemort had been doing the night he had killed the bane of his existence. Or what he had believed to be the only bane of his existence. "Ah, I'm afraid we have company, so I will make this quick I think. The boy…yes, the boy," he nodded, coming to a decision, recognising the figure walking towards him. "Come here, child," he snapped. Reberta clutched Jeremy too him. "DO NOT BE FOOLISH AGAIN WOMAN!" '_Pierce pectus pectoris per mucro,_' he chanted silently.

Reberta was thrown from Jeremy with the force and agony of a thousand swords piercing her through the heart. Her scream split the night air as blood began to pour from her chest. The curse made the feeling of a thousand swords stabbing her a reality, and the effects a little milder, to allow the person to bleed to death without escaping the pain.

Another twist of his hand and Harry had the screaming, shaking Jeremy at his side, weeping silently now.

"As I said before, you have no idea what my life has been like. What it's like to watch someone you love killed simply for knowing you. I had put it behind me but you brought it back. Now I will show you why I left HIM in my past. Why I am no longer HIM. You will have to endure what I have endured for my whole life, before I grant you the mercy of death," Harry announced, his grip tight on Jeremy's shoulder.

"NO! NO TAKE ME!" Reberta wept. "TAKE ME INSTEAD!"

"Why?" Harry smirked. "Why would I want to, when I can take you both?" He waved his wand and the whole street saw as a blinding flash of green light lit up the night sky, and Jeremy Williams, innocent seven-year-old, fell to the ground, not moving, no more tears running down his face, indescribably pale.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Sam and Reberta threw their heads back at the same time to scream in agonizing harmony for their loss.

"I tire of this," Harry sneered, flicking his wand to lift the charm he had placed on Sam to prevent the acid from attacking the rest of his body, watching the man as he disappeared into no more then a slight dust on the wind, Harry's face impassive. He turned to Reberta who was no more then a sobbing pile of defeat on the ground. "I see you have learned your lesson. See that you carry it into your next life." He lifted off his spell and the blood began once more.

There was a minute's screaming and then Reberta's crying ceased.

"PHOENIX STOP!" The company Harry had sensed coming was standing at the bottom of the driveway by now, his whole posture one of power and horror.

"Ahh, Dumbledore. Come to see the show?" Harry grinned. "Fascinating, the Dark Arts. Don't know why I didn't realise sooner."

"Phoenix, please," Dumbledore spoke, his voice steady and calm as though it was Harry sitting across from his desk, drinking tea, not standing in front of him, radiating power and having just murdered three people. "You cannot go on like this. You must rescue your life now, let me explain what happened…"

"How can I live? When everything I loved and cared about, and everything I was living for, is gone?" Harry snarled. "I am more then aware of what happened that night. You betrayed me. You were always lying, keeping me in the dark. You and everyone I ever considered a friend betrayed me and my whole world came crashing down around me. May I ask how you expect to explain that?"

"Phoenix…" There was a tinge of desperation in Dumbledore's tone now. "You have to understand that it was for your own good, being kept in the dark. If you knew everything you wouldn't have been able to handle it and train at the same time. You have to understand…"

"I never understood!" Harry's voice rose, but he was proud that it did not quiver. "I never understood why every time I picked myself up off the ground, you'd just knock me back down!"

"I understand that you could not see…"

"YOU UNDERSTOOD NOTHING THEN AND YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING NOW! YOU'RE WEAK, ALBUS DUMLBEDORE. AND YOU CANNOT CONTROL ME ANY MORE."

Harry leaned over to lift the lifeless body of the boy beside him, striding over Reberta's dead body to jump the fence with a grace even he did not realise he possessed with his war injury. He stormed right up to the door that a young, scared looking woman was peering out of. To her credit, she stayed where she was, rather then running away.

"Here, take him," Harry snapped. Though it looked like it took more effort then anything she had ever had to do before, the woman complied, taking the lifeless body in her own arms and starting. Harry knew what she had just realised. The young boy was still warm. "_Enervate," _he muttered, waving his wand.

Jeremy awoke instantly, staring around in bleary-eyed confusion.

"Take care of him," Harry commanded crisply, strolling back out into the street. He turned to Dumbledore who was looking amazed and like he had witnessed a miracle. "I don't care if you think I'm crazy," Harry snarled. "Even you should know I would never harm a child. _Exuro quod ostendo sum vestigium." _The end of the sentence flowed so in time with the rest that no one realised Harry had uttered a curse until he had disapperated.

Reberta's home was in flame and nothing Dumbledore did would put the blaze out. It burned for mere minutes until every trace of the possessions in the house was ash. Dumbledore shook his head, and turned away, his face troubled. How could everything have gone so wrong? At the gasps and points from the people of the street he turned back to the house and saw a stirring in the ashes.

A magnificent bird-like creature arose, made from black cinders as it stretched its wings and rose slowly into the air, revolving as it did so, to reveal itself from all sides. It grew as it rose, getting to be the size of a hippogriff before the finale really struck in. The bird burst, in a shower of bright yellows, oranges and blood reds, almost as if in fireworks, the whole display pausing for a moment on the way down, the flickering pyrotechnics forming the words:

I AM THE DARK PHOENIX.

Before it all fell to ash once more.

Harry Potter had never felt more jaded. Even the day Dumbledore had 'attacked' the hall he had had more energy then he did now. Even after the fifteen other attacks Harry had performed since killing Reberta, and the fact that two of them had resulted in more murders. He was slumped in his armchair, four months since the attack on Reberta William's and her family, re-reading the scribble he had made on several sheets of parchments with his heart beating in his throat. Surely not…surely not…surely not…YES!

"YES!" What was meant to be a yell was actually a hoarse whisper. He had not used his voice in four months, four long months, spent renewing Severus's spells, carefully, planning and working, searching uselessly for a cure, months spent pouring over Dark Arts manuals of all kind, only to find his answer in bloody 'Handy Household Hints'. HANDY HOUSEHOLD FUCKING HINTS!

Of course the book had been charmed by its previous owner into a different cover so Harry had skimmed right over it without thinking it might be in the slightest bit useful. Without thinking that it held a copy of DANGEROUS DARK DEEDS and their bloody reversal spells.

He had searched, read and hunted without sleep for a week and a half now and as he read in the dimly flickering firelight at three-thirty-five a.m. in the morning the passage that had caught his attention seemed to mock him with its falsities, because after he'd read it once he'd paused to wipe his eyes and it had gone.

He had searched frantically for some minutes before realising it was still there, and it was his mind, not the book, that was playing tricks on him. Without a second thought Harry ran his wand over the old book, commanding a copy of the passage and completely forgetting that all wizarding books had curses on them to ensure copyright wasn't breached and spent the next thirty minutes attempting to stop the hundred biting, poison-venomed pixies that the book had released from killing him as he attempted to located said book which had decided to become invisible to spite him.

When that mess had been fixed up and the book had been located hiding behind _Dire Deeds and how to Do 'em _Harry had spent another hour and a half breaking through the curses on the book to have three automatically copied out pages of the passage placed on his lap. He could have written it out by hand but if he'd made one single mistake the results would be disastrous.

As it was, on top of the many notes Harry had already made, he was certain he had just found a cure for one Severus Snape. Or at least, found out what was wrong with Severus so he could initiate a cure for it. He hot-footed it up the marbles stairs and, halfway to Severus's room, changed course for his dungeons.

Harry was grinning a genuine smile from one side of his face to the other, a sight no one had seen since before the final battle. His green eyes never lost their look of grief, reflected like shining phoenix tears, nor the loathing he felt for the world. He would never, he imaged, lose that. That had become a permanent fixture in Phoenix, in him. Harry would never be a gentle, naïve child again, and his lips would never again see the smile of innocent pleasure upon them, but for now he was closer to that then he had been in years.

Harry began to bustle about, his weariness all but forgotten as he began scribbling down ingredients and their uses.

His potions laboratory was a mimic of Professor Snape's. It gave the hard man a sense of what was the closest thing to peace he was likely to achieve in this life. He had shelves and shelves of potions he had created, from his own mind or from various books, most of them Dark. In one corner there was a cupboard, rather a cabinet, very much like the medicine ones so many muggles had in their bathrooms. Only this one was made out of steel, with a see-through glass front, and had so many locking and protective charms on it no one could possibly get through it. Even Harry, who had created it, would be hard pressed to do so.

And for good reason.

The potion that sat in there was the unidentified one he had found in Professor Severus's quarters when he had rescued the potions master from Hogwarts. Harry had planned to identify it. Purely to quell his own curiosity, of course. And he'd done that, replacing curiosity with fear.

It was a poison.

It was a poison that could kill you if you _touched _it.

It was a poison most commonly used for suicide.

The potion itself was dangerous, and for that reason Harry would have locked it up. It's use even more dangerous, and for that reason Harry would have used the locking spells. And it was too tempting, and for that reason Harry had used many curses and hexes that would prevent him from getting too it in under thirty minutes, by which time he would have hopefully come to his senses.

He had to admit in the past four months he had come close to trying. After the few nights he had slept, only to replay the nightmare that was his life over and over in his mind until he woke, screaming and thrashing, ready to hex himself into oblivion, only a wizards wand would not harm its master. So he would run down here and search for the poisons he had never created. He had Dark potions, which he had used numerous times, but their effects were only to cause agony and torture beyond his own wildest nightmares. None were deadly.

Often, when he could not reach Severus's potion, Harry turned to those. For at least the pain help him express the wild thoughts and agony which seethed through him every waking and sleeping hour of his life, every step he took, every word he spoke was laced with it.

So Severus's potion was locked up, and Harry often threw an extra security measure on when he came in here to work, effectively making it all the more impossible to reach.

Now, his mind did not even wander to the black potion hidden in the shadowy confines of that iron box as he began writing and scribbling and testing his theories, wild excitement clawing his heart.

This would work.

It had to.

Or Harry might find he had the strength to break into that iron box after all.

Harry slumped over the cauldron, forcing his eyes open and aware that his mind was sluggish, especially due to the fumes of the five different potions he had going at once, each a slight variation of the same one. With a weary wave he had a vial of Pepper-Up potion fly over to him and smack into his hand. He downed it quickly and banished the glass to the small sink in the corner of the room.

He felt himself waking up slightly, but only slightly. He'd been working for three days straight on this potion. Three days with tears and temper tantrums and unsuccessful cures. Three more days, on top of ten previous, without sleep. Dark lines and shadows played across Harry's face. He was a shell, he had been since the final battle, but now even more so.

His posture, though determined, spoke already of defeat. His emerald eyes spoke of pain of the heart and anguish of the soul, the eyes like a mosaic of shattered pieces of a whole person who had not been complete for so many years.

Here, while he was so close to a cure, he found himself again. The determined young Gryffindor, ready to impress, fighting odds stacked up against him to get what he wanted. And yet the innocence of that belief was gone, washed away like so much old milk as he chopped up a little more of his Graphorn Horn and began to powder it efficiently, adding just the right amount to one of his concoctions, re-reading the passage of the book he had found once more in his mind.

_An ancient and almost deadly curse, _Rafius-Bictorn _has been illegal since the witch-burnings. The curse, most-often cast upon the death of a wizard, as it takes so much magic it will quite literally kill the caster, or cast by very powerful wizards (Such power as Grindelwald displayed before being defeated by Albus Dumbledore in 1945) _

Rafius-Bictorn _will be a subtle curse, often taking time for the major effects to set in. The most common effects are dizziness, unhealable gashes, constant comatose state and nausea. These effects were used to cover up the main purpose of the spell, which is to slowly poison the victim of the curse. _

_The poison is able to be flushed out, however every time it is flushed out it will come back faster and stronger. _

So Harry had discovered. He was down to flushing it out twice a day now, and knew he would not be able to make the potions fast enough to keep up with the growing need if he did not find a cure soon.

_The main idea of the _Rafius-Bictorn _is that if one method death, ie. The poison, is unsuccessful, then the unhealable gashes will take effect. One thing the victim will need more then anything else will be constant blood replenishing potions. _

Harry grimaced and glanced over at four cauldrons he currently had working on that very project. His supplies were running very short and he had to start on making more Level-Head potion soon as he only had two vials left. But if he could just get this damn cure to work then he wouldn't have to worry about it any more…

_The curse has triggered what is almost like an alarm timed with any kind of blood-replenisher to open a wound to let out double the amount of blood that has just been put back into the body of the intended victim. Very few people are able to hold in the blood streaming from these lesions, thus the victim may have bled to death before the poison even has a chance to kick in. _

_The only way to heal the wounds is to rub a rare shrub's, _Myanthropia, _leaves over the wound. This will heal the wound, but will not prevent new ones from opening. It is less taxing then trying to hold the blood in with magic, but the amount of blood that can be lost whilst the leave is rubbed across the wound can be enough to kill the victim anyway. _

Brilliant, Harry had scowled at this point in time, and successfully burnt the page to a crisp. One of the many reasons he had made copies, so when false hopes were crushed he had a release, and still had the work he had done.

_A liquefied version of _Myanthropia _will react with the _Grandite _in the poison, causing said poison to speed up the effects, resulting in almost certain death. _

Another sheet had been destroyed. At this point Harry had been forced to make ten more copies from his remaining sheet.

_The counter-effect of the poison, _Hartwort, _will react badly if placed together with _Myanthropia _and if placed together with _Pedantial _as a replacement for _Myanthropia _it will cause sudden and violent fits, certainly resulting in death. _

The parchment carried on in much the same way for around three more pages, and Harry took it onboard as a challenge, much like those muggle mind-benders Remus used to be so fond of. Sirius couldn't abide them of course, but he humoured his friend. Or more correctly, he mocked him. The parchment finished off with the words Harry needed to know, for he would not use Severus as an experiment.

_The only record of a potion being made successfully was in 1698 when Brodwick Flight cured his younger sister of the curse, and would only allow the finished potion to be seen from two hundred metres, under tight scrutiny through a telescope. The finished potion is a pale green, with wisps of grey, and a mauve and black smoke. Flight intended to sell the recipe before his death, but met his untimely end at the hand of a dragon in a strange variation of Quidditch with dragons as the keepers. No one ever found his notes on the curse, and some say he never wrote them down, for fear of them being stolen. _

Harry stirred his first potion carefully four times clockwise, then twice in a figure eight pattern. It turned deep blue and promptly tried to explode in his face. Luckily his extra protective casing and invisible potion-proof bubble over the cauldron made that impossible. He struck the potion off his list irritably.

He shifted to his second potion, added a little Bicorn powder and moved onto the third, the second needed to sit for fifteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds, then needed to be stirred three time anti-clockwise before its success or lack thereof could be determined.

The third potion was a vile black and let out a strong odour of off-eggs. Harry blanched. He'd recreated Severus's unknown potion. He wondered if subconsciously it had been a deliberate mistake.

He shook off the feeling and moved onto the fourth potion, bubbling away quietly with the flame down at 'simmer'. He hadn't really expected this one to work. It had been more of a 'throw the leftovers in' kind of potion. It was a deep grey and was letting off a blinding pink haze. Harry smirked. He'd just created Never-Fail Foo Power in liquid form. He rolled his eyes and began bottling the substance in special vials with air holes so it would dry up and power before shelving it and moving on to his fifth mixture, his breath catching in his throat with hope.

He blinked, he reached into the cauldron and dove his hand down to the bottom. He stepped back, his hand dripping wet and he began to laugh. Of all the stupid…ridiculous…he had made…he'd done…he'd made…Harry was laughing so hard he stumbled back another step and rammed into the wall, causing the bottles of potions to rattle dangerously on their shelves as he sunk to the ground, laughing and crying at the same time.

He had spent four hours on that potion and for what? He had created water. Yep, four hours of work and rare ingredients and he'd come up with good ol' H2 fucking O. He threw his head back for a heinous howl. This could not be happening, all the effort, every little ounce of himself that he threw into the fucking potions…

Harry froze, his face ashen as he re-ran his thoughts. Then a smile graced his face as he stood and walked from the manor.

A/N: Sorry guys! Year twelve is killing me. In order to continue giving regular updates, I've decided to limit myself to one a fortnight, on a Friday night. I hope I can keep up with those! I DID make this chapter longer then I thought it would be, to apologise.

Thank you to all my reviewers and readers, you wonderful wonderful people!

**Next Fortnight: **Has Harry finally discovered Severus' cure? Did he brew it right? As he goes to test it, there are no second chances. Severus can either live, or die. Next week in, **Chapter Five: Yet to be named. **


	5. Breathe with me

**Chapter Five: Breathe with me**

'_Thank-you, thank-you so much,' _Harry gasped gratefully at the Manticore who had just deigned to give him some venom, without completely killing the young wizard as was the general consensus between said creatures. The Manticore looked Harry over regally and nodded, before turning and disappearing back into the Albanian Forest.

Harry clutched the vial of venom to him like it was sacred before placing it away in the enchanted pack he carried, already filled to the brim with rare ingredients he had collected on this trip.

His eyes glinted. It had taken a month, and numerous trips back and forth between Birch Hall and various forests around the world, Severus was at five potions a day and Harry was struggling to keep up, but he'd finally collected the ingredients he was sure would give him the cure.

And now, onwards towards the treatment.

Harry began meticulously lining up the ingredients he would need, shoving his still-full cauldrons from a month ago to the side of the room and placing a large, clean one in their stead. He lit the flame to the side of it, ready to shift as needed. He measured out amounts hurriedly, but carefully all the same. He would only get once chance at this.

He poured a splash of Hinkypunk tears into the bottom of the cauldron and it hissed and spluttered before shooting up a deep blue spark and evaporating to assure him that their were no remaining drabs of other potions or ingredients in the bottom of that pewter bowl of salvation. He had one chance. Everything had to be perfect.

He stopped to re-check his instructions, written out in illegible scrawl, then again in the neatest writing he had ever managed. It all added up, it had to. It made sense, because the third ingredient would counter-act the poison and the fifth would counter-act the side-effects of the third.

Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. He'd checked it over and over and over again, in his mind and on the paper for the past month, done it so many times that he was sure if he did it again he'd go mad. It was either right or it was not. There was nothing more to write.

He knew he should go to sleep, just for a few hours at least. He hadn't slept for over two weeks and tired people make mistakes but he was running on a fierce bout of adrenaline and he wasn't about to waste it as he moved to the cauldron, muttering the incantation that would start the potion on its right path.

"_Ifaro macani werlok pince." _

A yellow mist swept through the cauldron bottom, turned to liquid and collapsed into bubbles. Harry nodded, and placed the whole Graphorn horn in, watching and making a note as it sizzled grey and turned pink. So far so good, he had been expecting the reaction.

Next was the Myanthropia, necessary as a counter to the gashes, although Harry had needed to find a way around using Hartwort to counter the poison as he had to have a counter to the poison and neither Hartwort nor Pedantial mixed with Hartwort would do.

He had discovered it in the furthest reaches of the Albanian Forest, where most of the forest creatures feared to tread. A beast so mighty it had never been slain, and none who had met it had lived to tell the tale lived there. A beast, Harry had discovered, who had lived in the greatest agony. A beast who, years before, had been attacked by a dragon and left to die. Despite his pleas, no one would help the creature who screeched so terribly.

But Harry had.

It had taken five days and nights of straight out pouring his magic and soul into the huge beast which was not quite bear, not quite sphinx or lion and not quite an adult, not quite a child. At last the immortal beast, who had lived in sheer agony could stand once more. And he had forced a gigantic scale into Harry's hands, with a whispered comment,

"It's what you're looking for."

And he disappeared.

Harry had wondered how the beast could have known what he had looked for, but a test of a tiny corner of the scale had proven true. The scale counter-acted the poison and blended harmlessly with the Myanthropia.

With trembling hands Harry placed the scale on top of the mixture that was already there. It produced the desired affect, a puff of purple smoke. From here on in, Harry had only speculation to work with. He just hoped he had it right.

Exactly three minutes later he placed in the Stalewort, stirred eight times counter-clockwise and once clockwise, making a greyish tinge appear in the potions surface in the form of small swirls, almost like snakes.

Next came the leaves of Warrinlet, a shrub discovered in the far reaches of Africa's Hidden Forests, where the creatures would stare at him from their homes but not move an inch until he was safely away in the distance. Harry powdered three of them quickly and scraped them into a measuring cup, adding another three-quarters of powdered leaf when it didn't measure up.

A blue tint shimmered on the surface.

Harry's breathing was ragged as he stepped back. He had to leave it for forty-nine minutes before adding the Miret dose. He shivered and slid down against the wall, wishing against everything he had ever known that he could have a drink right now, that it wouldn't cloud his mind or his judgement.

So he waited, quietly. He didn't think. He knew too well that he could get caught up in his thoughts and stuck in a vortex that would pull him down to a level so low that he would forget all about time. So he sat, still, ridged, uncomfortable so as to avoid the temptation of sleep, and he didn't think.

The time moved past, he stared blankly ahead, his eyes deadened. The flicker of hope resided somewhere deep inside, as did the knowledge that if this failed he would have lost anything to live for. If this failed, he would probably go insane.

Forty-nine minutes later Harry stood and added the Miret, which he had stored in it's liquefied form some time ago. Two dashes, one stir clockwise, three dashes, five figure-eights, one pinch of Treil Powder, stir fifty-two times clockwise.

That done he settled back for another fifty-eight minutes.

A tail from the Polar Firthclaw in Alaska fell, causing the mixture to bubble and froth violently, spitting and hissing like a trapped animal and turning a deep earth-brown. A pale silver steam was now being emitted from the potion.

Harry was shaking from nerves. There were only a few more ingredients to go, and then he would discover if it had all been in vain. A piece of skin from a basilisk, which he had had to return to Hogwarts to steal, though this time without the theatrics.

He had to wait ten minutes before adding the basilisk skin, stir twice clockwise, once anti-clockwise, then added the hellebore and moonstone.

He took a deep breath and stepped away as the mixture turned bright yellow, wiping away the sweat from his forehead to ensuring none of it fell into the mixture and contaminated it. Closing his eyes, Harry sent up a prayer to whatever deity's were watching over him and picked up the Manticore venom, walking slowly back to the cauldron and counting to sixteen before adding three drops.

With a spectacular hiss the cauldron boiled over, only stopped by Harry's invisible shields over the cauldrons. He shook some more as he picked up the knife he had cut the basilisk skin with and pulled up his robe, recalling his thoughtless wanderings of over a month ago which had brought him to this point.

_He had spent four hours on that potion and for what? He had created water. Yep, four hours of work and rare ingredients and he'd come up with good ol' H2 fucking O. He threw his head back for a heinous howl. This could not be happening, all the effort, every little ounce of himself that he threw into the fucking potions…_

Every ounce of himself, and yet he had not put himself into the potion had he? He had put in everything else he could think of, to counter the dizziness, the poison, the unhealable wounds, but what had he put in to counter the sheer force of the curse? To counter the hate that had gone into the curse when it had been thrown?

He knew what he needed, he needed sacrifice, and he needed love. And he could give both by a simple cut. He took a ragged breath and slashed down at his wrist, slicing the vein there open and allowing three drops of blood to fall into the hissing mixture before waving his other hand and healing himself, waiting only a moment to whisper the words to complete the spell.

"_Ifaro macani werlok HATH."_

He stumbled backwards and his spine slammed into the wall where he sank down off his shivering legs. His stomach was rolling and he felt like he was going to be sick. Finally he forced himself back up and, each step enforced by a grit in his jaw as his fear swelled in his stomach. If this hadn't worked…

The potion was pale green, with wisps of grey, and a lilac and dark grey smoke hung above. For a moment Harry's heart jumped, elated before he remembered the words of the book exactly: _pale green, with wisps of grey, and a mauve and black smoke. _Mauve and black, not lilac and dark grey. But surely he must have just changed it slightly, maybe the blood given was what effected the smoke. Yes, surely that was it.

Harry was nodding, a broad, lunatic smile on his face as he grabbed a vial and filled it to the brim with the potion. He had done it! Surely he had done it!

He bolted as fast as his painful injured leg would allow up the marble stairs and burst into Severus's room where Augurey was standing guard over his 'patient'.

_What's wrong, Phoenix? _Augurey frowned, checking Severus's pulse once more. _He's due for more potion, _the Demiguise added.

'_Never mind that,' _Harry was grinning wildly and almost shoved the shy ape-like creature physically to the side as he muscled in to sit beside Severus's bed.

_Is that what I think it is? _Augurey asked, glancing at the vial cautiously. It wasn't the same colour as the potions they had been feeding Severus so constantly.

'_Let's hope!' _Harry smiled, faltering only a moment as he opened Severus's mouth and moved the vial towards it. What if it really was the wrong potion? What if, despite all Severus had taught him before he ran in to defeat Voldemort the previous year, he still screwed up the potion or the ingredients? His hand froze.

_Go on, _Augurey urged. _Or give him the blood replenisher…_

Harry shook his head determinedly. Where the hell was his courage? His conviction in his own work?

'_Here goes nothing,' _he grimaced, tipping the concoction down Severus's throat without another moment's hesitation. His heart leapt into his mouth as he waited with baited breath for a reaction. Anything. He had no idea what was going to happen. It had never been recorded. Would the spell he'd placed on the unhealable gash evaporated into nothingness? Would Severus choke slightly, cough and sit bolt upright like in all those ridiculous muggle movies where they thought snogging air into a person's mouth could make them wake up AOK straight away? Nothing was happening, in fact Severus's breathing was becoming laboured. Panic was scrambling to get up Harry's throat like a little creature, nails ripping at the lining of his throat and making it burn. What had he done?

"Come on, Severus," he croaked, his throat thick with fear and rasping with disuse.

_Are you sure that… _Augurey began.

"OF COURSE I AM! DO YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD GIVE IT TO HIM OTHERWISE?"

_Temper, temper, _Augurey muttered, rolling his eyes.

Harry waited, breath hitched as a pain like something was scrabbling about in his stomach, attacking the lining with all the force such a tiny thing could muster, rose. He felt his stomach roll again and only through sheer willpower did he not throw up right then and there.

Severus's breathing was easing and Harry found himself breathing in time with the Professor, holding his breath a little more each time. In, out, in, hold, out, in, hold, hold, out.

Harry was almost panting but kept time.

In, hold, hold, hold, hold…

A/N: Hehe sorry guys.

To **KYER** As sorry as I am to hear you dislike my story I would like to point out that there is NO point in flaming me before this story is finished. There is an explanation behind all of it and you yelling at me because you can't handle not understanding Harry's actions right now is just going to make YOU look like a Tosser later on when it is explained.

This goes for anyone else who intends to flame my story as well. Constructive criticism is fine but if you just go off into a rant, I'm not going to pay any attention to you.

Now thats over…Thank you very much to all my wonderful reviewers for all of their support though guys  Life has become super hectic so keeping up with this is hard, but worth it because of you. Thanks!

**Fortnight: **Will Severus make it? …(oh come on you don't need more then THAT do you? hehe) in Chapter Six: **The Black Box**


	6. The Black Box

**Chapter Six: The Black Box**

Warning: Suicidal reference.

Harry's breath burst through in bucketfuls as he began to cough and splutter, panting and breathing heavily, jumping up with his wand.

'_Come on you bastard!' _

The slip of paper appeared at the end of Harry's wand and he tore it off and turned it around. He felt his heart freeze and time seemed to stop as he looked at the one word, written in dark ink, mocking him as the piece of paper in his hand fluttered slightly from his panting breaths. One single word, in deep black ink.

DEAD.

No. No. No. Nonononononononononono…

"NO!" Harry's face was ashen, the colour drained faster then he could apperate. He grabbed Severus's shoulders and shook him roughly. "NO! WAKE UP! WAKE UP YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WAKE UP!"

_Phoenix…_Augurey stepped forward to calm his friend.

Harry dropped Severus's shoulders and backed unceremoniously away from the bed. He continued his journey, stumbling backwards, hand clasped over his wide open mouth and emerald eyes flashing in wild bewilderment and half-crazed sorrow. It didn't make sense. The potion had been right. It had to have been…unless. What if he'd missed an ingredient?

Turning on heel, Harry bolted down the long marble stairs, not even caring as he lost his footing and crashed down the last three, earning himself a blood nose and split lip. He just scrambled to his feet and pushed on, skidding into his lab with his work robes billowing wildly out around him. The potion was still boiling away in its cauldron, the instructions still lay to the side.

Harry grabbed the parchment, reading it desperately, over and over again. Everything, he'd done everything. He must have miscalculated the time, or the amount of blood needed. He could try again, refine it, it'd take less time now he knew what he was looking for. Yes, that's what he'd do.

DEAD.

The beast of unknown could be a problem, since the animal had disappeared. Oh well, he was the new Dark Lord after all, he was sure he could find him. It would take a while but Severus could wait.

DEAD. 

The Graphorn might be an issue but it was mating season and many of the Graphorn species would be sustaining injuries. If he offered his services surely…

DEAD.

DEAD. DEAD. DEAD

Harry's façade fell and he crumpled, tears running fast and hard down his face. The potion continued to bubble away, as if nothing was wrong. As if…as if there was a life worth living beyond Severus's demise. Harry threw his head back and let out a feral, hoarse scream of anguish, his fist smashing hard into the pewter cauldron, sending the substance and the cauldron clattering to the floor and his robe sleeve straight into the flame beneath.

Harry watched in fascination as flame tried to claim the material, scorching it but doing nothing else, much to his dismay. DAMN FLAME-PROOF WORK ROBES! He howled, turning blindly, his tears interfering with his vision. He needed pain, anything, anything to stop the building torment inside of him that made him feel so hollow.

Potions, why had he trusted a liquid to save Severus's life? There had to be another way there had to be! FUCK POTIONS. FUCK POTIONS TO HELL! Harry took a blind swipe at his shelves, his hand contacting vial after vial. It was a domino effect, one vial fell and the rest were toppling spilling, breaking, splashing.

The first burning contact of an unknown Dark potion on Harry's skin was like a blessed relief. Like water on a boiling summer's day, or a heating charm in the midst of winter snowfall. Harry gasped and sunk to his knees, allowing the potions to contact his face, every touch was like acid, burning his skin, forcing the hollowness to recognise his pain.

It wasn't possible, months of care, months of fear, months of brewing, searching, hunting, creating, failures, minor breakthroughs, studying. All of it to save one man. Severus Snape. To do to him something he had done for Harry more times then the boy cared to count. To save the life of the man he had believed to have died at the hand of Albus Dumbledore in the last battle. Only to discover he was alive, if unwell. To save the life of a man he cared so deeply for it hurt. Only to have him snatched away once more.

DEAD.

Everything was gone. Everything he loved, everything he needed to keep going. To live.

DEAD.

Harry was trembling as he crawled towards the door. The iron door. His magic blasted through the first three locks as though they were never there. The fourth guard blew him off his feet and he was thrown backwards and slammed into the hard stone wall. Not deterred he tried again, and sliced through the fourth of twenty-six defences.

Then eight.

DEAD.

Twelve.

DEAD.

Nineteen.

Harry was panting, sweating, crying, bleeding. He needed to die. He had to die. Had to be with Severus, wherever he was. No matter the cost, no matter that he would never get to teach the manipulative bastards a lesson they sorely deserved, he had to die, right now.

DEAD.

Twenty-five.

Now only the last, extra-tricky one. The one he had put on for times of extreme desperation. The one even he didn't know the counter-curse for. The one he'd never counted on having to depend on. But as he threw himself at the iron box, hard, the curse hit him like a thousand flaming swords, throwing him into the air and activating the portkey in the spell at the same time. He was at the top of the tallest tower in Birch Hall.

The wind was buffeting him as he stood right at the edge of the stone roof, mockingly giving him little shoves towards the edge, crooning as it wailed past his ears. It was cold, licking sardonically over the patches of bare skin where the potions had burned, causing the pain to intensify.

Harry teetered on the edge, he just had to fall, just fall and then there would be nothing to be done. Not even he could fly without a broom. Just a little forward and he would be falling a hundred metres to his death. To hit the hard ground with a single sickening impact and have it all be over. There would be no living, not if he tumbled from up here. No chance. Even landing in water from such a height would be the death of him.

Harry's shoulders sagged and he stumbled back a step as he had always intended when he had created the curse to move him up here. He slumped and collapsed in a heap on the rubble-covered surface of the tower roof. He had always known that after the particularly nasty fall he had taken from his broom in third year that he could never willingly relive the experience, would never willingly go through the feeling of having his stomach coming out of his mouth again.

A potion he could take.

The fall, he could not.

Harry curled up on himself and wept. He wept for Severus Snape, who would never know the freedom of Voldemort's death. Who would never be the man he could be, free of dictatorship from two men who spent their lives in a giant game of chess against one another. He wept for his parents, who had died, much as Severus, at the fall of Voldemort, never to taste the freedom that the end of his reign of terror would cause. He wept for Sirius, Remus and Ginny. For the innocent lives stolen away in a war, a war against him. Against Harry Potter. The chess game had been every single black and white piece against him, a single black pawn. Cleverly disguised as a normal game, and he a white king.

He wept for himself, for Harry Potter, who would never be again. For the life he never got to lead, for the friends' he thought he had, for the parents he never knew, for the love of a man that he would never have. And for the death that just wouldn't claim the fucking-boy-who-lived.

"Harry?" Harry's head flew up, his eyes still blurred by tears, he wiped them furiously his wand out immediately, though his vendetta now seemed like such a waste, such a sham.

"MY NAME IS NOT HARRY FUCKING POTTER! HE IS GONE. YOU ALL FUCKING KILLED HIM!" he screamed, his voice broken and rough.

"H-Harry?" The voice was so hesitant, so unfamiliar.

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT! YOU ILLEGITIMATE PRICKS! YOU'LL ALL GO TO HELL FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME. FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME AND SEVERUS AND SIRIUS AND REMUS AND GINNY! YOU'LL ALL GO TO FUCKING HELL!"

Harry's eyes were clearing finally, the last of his tears running down his cheeks, mingling with the copper blood that still dribbled helplessly from his nose. He blinked away the remaining water and stared. The ghost of Severus Snape was standing before him, looking worried and unsteady on his feet. Obviously it was a non-transparent ghost but maybe he needed to possess his dead body to extract revenge. So Severus would be haunting him now? Well that was just great…

"_Wizards can leave an imprint of themselves upon the earth, to walk palely where their living selves once trod." _

Hadn't that been what Nearly-Headless Nick had told him when he had asked after Sirius' death about people becoming ghosts? It was. He was sure it was. And he knew Severus had never stepped a foot in this Hall, no one had for centuries before Harry had bought it. But Severus was dead. Harry drew the paper from his pocket and stared at it.

DEAD.

It said it, right there even as the ghost, or whatever it was, of Severus walked towards him.

"H…?" Severus trailed off, clearly unsure what to call him. Maybe he was coming up here to extract his revenge? Harry would take the punishment gladly.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, his voice still croaky with disuse, and now shaky with weeping. "I didn't mean it. I swear I thought it would work. I spent so long, I checked and re-checked everything. The potion looked so much like what it was supposed to. I just…I'm sorry. Kill me, torture me. Go ahead, I deserve it."

Harry waited, his eyes, swollen and red-rimmed, fixed squarely on the man in front of him. He heard a clatter on the stairs and swirled, losing his footing and falling to the ground again as Augurey appeared.

_Phoenix! He's okay he just got u…oh. I see you see, _the Demiguise added dryly.

'_What?' _Harry was dizzy and bewildered, glancing from the ghost…thing of Severus to Augurey. _'He's dead. You saw him. I saw him. The bloody check-up showed it!'_

_He's alive, _Augurey insisted, albeit understandingly of Harry's uncertainty. _He died but about two minutes after you left he woke up, gasping, and the wound's gone! It wasn't until you left that I realised even in his dead state it was retracting, healing and that only some black, toxic substance was coming out. Must have been the poison. Anyway after that, after the stuff healed, he just woke up, glanced at me and started looking for a human. _

'_No…no…this can't be…it worked?' _Harry was glad he was sitting down or he would have fallen over.

_It worked, _the Demiguise confirmed with a nod, taking note of where they were and what must have drawn Harry up here. Harry felt a sickening lurch of his stomach. It had worked and he had nearly killed himself before seeing it happen! He crawled over to the edge of the terrace and poked his head over the side. Opening his mouth he allowed the little amount of food he had consumed to fall dramatically from his stomach and splatter onto the rocks so far below. Speared, just as he could have been.

"Harry?" Severus's concern seemed to have overridden his uncertainty as he stepped forward to grab Harry's shoulders and yank him away from the edge. Harry fell flat on his back, panting for breath, green eyes wild with bewilderment and fear. What if it wasn't true? More of Dumbledore's scheme? His mouth dripping vomit to the side of it, blood to the bottom and top of it as his nose bled sluggishly on. Tear lines still streaked his face and he could see black, painful acidic spots on his skin from where his potions had attached themselves.

"It's you, it's really you," he whispered, voice hoarse and tearful as he threw himself at Severus's robes, clutching on and breaking out in sobs as if he would never let go, not even noticing as Severus swayed unsteadily on his feet.

"Harry? What's wrong? What do you mean it's me? What's happening? What happened to the Dark Lord? What on earth happened to you?" Severus's deep voice drifted over Harry's eardrum like the sweetest tune he had ever heard.

"Oh god, oh god," he whimpered, still holding onto Severus's robes like lifelines.

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Let me know (Well not for the latter, hehe) Happy Easter all!

**Two Weeks: **Harry and Severus are reunited, and Severus cannot comprehend the monster Harry has become in **Chapter Seven: Don't call me that.**


	7. Don’t call me that!

**Chapter Seven: Don't call me that. **

_Phoenix, perhaps we should take this downstairs? _Augurey suggested.

Harry nodded to, seemingly nothing for Severus, his pet Demiguise's words in agreement. He forced himself to stand and tugged Severus's robes, not letting the man go as he led the potions master down the winding, rickety, black iron staircase that led up the tower. Toward the marble stairs and down to the library. Neither of them steady on their feet, or smelling the best as they walked to the chairs by the fire, which Dobby had obviously poked up. Pain was shooting through the younger man's body like he was trying to hold onto ice and fire at the same time.

When the reached the library, Harry collapsed into his armchair, reluctantly letting go of Severus so he could sit in the armchair nearby. First things first, Harry poured himself the largest Merdock extra-enhanced vile concoction he had ever drunk and sculled half of it in an instant, shuddering as it slithered its way down his throat and into the pit of his stomach where it lay, smouldering.

"Harry…" Severus took in the young man's appearance. He looked to have aged since the last time he had seen him, on the battlefield as he had stepped into the curtain of magic. After that Severus knew no more, struck by a curse he hadn't seen coming, by a person he didn't observe. Harry looked so…old. He sat there, his robes singed, bloodied and torn. His face covered in smears of dirt, vomit, blood and tears. Severus frowned, looking past it all.

Harry's face was ill and sallow looking, his emerald eyes no longer danced and sparkled like the more or less innocent teenager he had trained the year before. They were dull, deadened almost. He had seen too much. Severus knew that look, recognised it in his younger self. The eyes gave so much away, but first and foremost was deep-seated twisted, unrepented, undisguised, utter loathing. Who or what it was directed at Severus didn't know but it was there, not hidden behind the weak remains of glamour clutched onto for too long.

There were shadows in his face. Shadows from a lack of sleep, a long lack of sleep, Severus noted critically, and shadows from seeing the darkness, living the darkness, being the darkness. The flame of hope that usually resided within was gone, showing nothing but pure and utter despair. And a pain that would not go away.

"Please don't call me that," his voice was a whisper, a plea, and broken and harsh as if it was being used for the first time in a long time.

"What?" Severus jerked his head up as the young man cradled his liquor close to his chest like it was a blinding saviour in his world of darkness.

"Don't call me by…that name. He no longer exists. He died on the battlefield that day. Don't call me that name," Harry whispered, eyes sorrowful.

"Wh…what should I call you?" Severus asked hesitantly, quashing his own desperate need to understand the situation and what was going on to try and reassure the young man in front of him that it would be okay.

"Phoenix, I suppose. That's what they all call me," Harry shrugged, his voice thick with a carelessness that didn't seem to match the situation.

"Phoenix?" Now Severus was beyond confused, this whole situation was too unreal, too hard to try and comprehend.

"Yes. Phoenix," Harry laughed humourlessly, his eyes, if possible, darkening even more, hatred flaring. "The Dark Phoenix. Ironic. Phoenix, the Dark Phoenix, born from the ashes of betrayal that Harry Potter died in." Harry's face was so hard, so unforgiving that Severus found himself shivering. What could have provoked such a reaction?

"Phoenix…What happened? That night, what happened? I was hit by a curse and I didn't see anything except you going through the magic."

If possible, Harry's face hardened further, agony long hidden in his eyes flickering to light again as his grip on the canister of liquor tightened and he took a huge swig, trying to subside his trembling in vain. The memories of his shallow victory close at hand.

"Voldemort is dead. He was the lesser of two evils," Harry growled, his mouth curling up into a strange, ugly smirk. "I don't exactly know how I escaped with my life, nor you with yours, barring that Dumbledore was too cowardly to finish what he'd started without his partner." Severus opened his mouth to interrupt in shock but Harry ploughed relentlessly on.

"He hit you with the curse. I thought it was Avada but it couldn't have been, must have said it to trick me, or maybe his power was fading, I don't know, but you got hit by Rafius-Bictorn instead. All I know is I killed Voldemort. Hell I crucified the fucking son-of-a-bitch coz if I was going to die I was sure as hell going to take him down with me." Harry was shaking so badly the decanter almost slipped through his fingers to the floor as he gulped down some more hot burning liquid. "I woke up in the hospital wing, told Dumbledore he could get fucked and was out of there in a second."

Severus had never heard Harry swear before today, never. Even under extreme distress. It unnerved him to see how much whatever had happened was affecting him, but the man seemed to continue unremittingly, despite the fact not a single word of his tale was sinking in or helping Severus understand what was going on.

"I thought you were dead. A month later, after I'd bought this place and started training myself, I saw the _Daily Prophet,_ and there you were on front page! 'In a coma,'" Harry mimicked the words with such derision and sarcasm that it was like looking into a mirror for Severus. "'Slipping away,' they said. Slipping away my arse. They wanted you to die, in a way that still had Dumbledore as the good guy. So I apperated to Hogwarts and brought you back here, determined to help."

Harry's voice had begun to fail him, after so much time without speaking he was hoarse and his words were ground out painfully through his dry throat, despite valiant efforts to coat it with liquor. He was clearly trying to find courage from the depths of his miserable little heart.

"I…I…couldn't…I…"

Harry stood suddenly, throwing his flask as hard as he could at the fireplace, where it shattered and the liquor fuelled the flames to rise up in an angry blaze. Harry's face was violent and deeply agonised at the same time as he stormed over to the window, resting his head against the thick, cool stone as he stared out over the forest around him, seeing a few creatures poking out their heads in greeting.

He wanted to tear and rip and attack again. To destroy like he had so often over the past four months, attacking the families of those still dumb enough to follow and support Dumbledore, even after all he had done. Always making sure they knew who had done it. He left his signature calling card. There was no mistaking it.

"Phoenix?" Severus's voice was hesitant and it cut through Harry like a knife.

"Go to bed, you shouldn't be up yet," he said in a crisp voice quite unlike his own as he strode purposefully towards the door. "I need to do something. If anyone comes I've keyed you into the wards so you should be able to apperate out. Augurey should take care of you."

"Augurey? And where are you going?" Severus pressed, looking apprehensive and confused.

"The Demiguise," Harry shrugged impatiently, fixing his appearance and clothes with a wave of his hand, swapping his current plain clothes for his now customary scarlet robes. "And I have some…business to take care of."

Severus didn't trust the hatred in those eyes, and in that face, to do what was right by the wizard.

"Like what?"

"Nothing you have to worry about," Harry snapped in curt reply. He disapperated, but not before Severus had grabbed a clump of his scarlet robes.

Harry re-appeared in a dark street, most of the buildings dilapidated at best. The street lamps were all out-of-order and he snorted. Well he'd obviously gone off course for some…

"SEVERUS!" he snarled, whirling as he heard the thump of a shape behind him, as Severus fell to the ground looking dizzy. "What the hell do you think you're doing you crazy son-of-a-bitch? You could have splinched us both!"

As he grabbed Severus's arms and heaved him to his feet, hurriedly brushing down the robes and obviously checking for any injury, his actions contradicted his harsh words. The potions master was looking at him very oddly, although whether it was Harry's actions or the fact he kept flinching as he brushed Severus' robes down, Harry wasn't sure.

"Are you alright?" he demanded finally, when his own examinations could go no further without breeching Severus's privacy.

"I'm fine. Where are we? What are we doing here?" Severus queried warily.

"WE aren't doing anything. YOU are going straight home," Harry snapped irritably. "For someone who professes to be intelligent and cautious you certainly do some injudicious things."

Severus raised a thin eyebrow, looking more like the terrifying potions master Harry had known most of his life.

"I must say, though your vocabulary seems to have improved, your manners have taken a turn for the worse. I wasn't even aware that was possible, Phoenix," he commented dryly.

Harry didn't smile but he felt his heart jump just a little, as though someone had used one of those muggle contraptions that they always showed in movies yelling, 'Stat, Clear.' One definite upside to Severus's service as a spy for that blood-sucking traitor Dumbledore was that he rarely forgot things, therefore was unlikely to trip on Harry's name.

"Glad to hear it," he growled, not letting on that maybe he wasn't feeling so confident about what he was about to do. "Now get back to the Hall before I have to hex you into oblivion."

The amusing thing about the comment was that because Severus had no idea that Harry was currently being hailed as The New Dark Lord he was the only person, barring perhaps Dumbledore, or maybe even including him now, that didn't look terrified at the remark and scuttle to do his bidding.

"As if you could," Severus snorted. Harry's face darkened with another ghostly smirk.

"I would invite you to come along and observe my dazzling array of skills, but I find that I work better alone." Harry shrugged and began to walk forward, determined to work out where he was before apperating somewhere else.

"What do you plan on doing? Where are we?" Severus repeated, irritation now entering his voice. He was confused. He had no idea what was going on, or why Harry was acting this way.

"What I plan on doing is teach some slimeballs what it means to mess with me," Harry snarled, peering cautiously around a brick wall. "As to where we are I have no idea, thanks to you I was knocked off course."

"Where were you headed?" Severus pressed, and felt a shiver run down his spine as Harry turned back to him, face illuminated in the faint gleam of the waning moonlight. His eyes were glinting maliciously. His face distorted in a wild grin that showed a thirst for revenge, and a need to prove himself that Severus hadn't seen since the day Harry had asked for his help in training to defeat Voldemort, halfway through his sixth year at Hogwarts.

"The Granger's."

Severus's head snapped up from where he had been examining the houses around them, trying in vain to work out where the hell they were. Then he did something utterly stupid. He had prided himself for years of not having let anything impulsive slip past his tongue. As a spy, doing such a thing could leave him bleeding and dead in a gutter. The last time he had done it was as a teenager, telling Dumbledore to go to hell. Well, that had worked out well, he had ended up bound to Voldemort.

Since then he had learned to hold his tongue pretty well, around his students didn't count, but even as he saw how powerful Harry's hate could be, how powerful Harry had become, Severus said something absolutely ridiculous and reckless. Something he would have expected from Potter himself. Not that he had any idea why the idea was so repulsive, he just knew.

He smirked and met Harry's eyes.

"The Granger's? Visiting Hermione?"

The two last words, spoken in jest, provoked a reaction that matched and outran anything Voldemort had ever thrown at him.

"DO NOT SPEAK HER NAME!" Harry roared, cutting through the silence of the street like a double edged blade through butter. Momentarily, Severus amused himself by thinking, 'Am I not allowed to say anyone's names anymore?' before realising Harry's rage was not something to be mocked. "That filthy little mudblood bares no more consideration then to watch and suffer the pain she so deemed me fit to feel. She has no name, no place in my past, present or future, barring the punishment which I will be doling out liberally as soon as you go home I get to her filthy parents' house!"

Severus had found himself forced back a step at the angry words, his mouth hanging open a little in shock. He had not been ready for the assault of furious words. He hadn't expected it from the man he had seen for so long as a boy, the rosy-cheeked eleven-year-old he had moved on from in sixth year, but he still saw him as Harry Potter, Dumbledore's golden boy, and clearly something had happened to change that. Mudblood? Harry had always hated the word, its meaning and any other racial slurs that Malfoy had managed to come up with. Then again, maybe "Phoenix" did not.

For once since he had become a spy for Dumbledore, Severus felt totally and completely out of the loop and bewildered. What on earth was going on? What had created the man who stood before him?

"I apologise. I did not realise you held the name in such distain," he replied, his voice slightly scathing. He was not happy at the moment but was all too cheerful to let Harry see it. To his shock, and he really had to stop being shocked at everything the younger man did, Harry's features softened. Just a little. It did not quell the anger in his face, nor the constant distain that dripped from his words but enough to let Severus know he had not lost his humanity completely.

"No I do. I should not have lost my temper again. Please, return home. I have need to play out certain…procedures and I have no wish for you to see me doing so," Harry shook his head wearily. Severus stepped a little closer.

"Perhaps this could wait until we are both rested and you have explained to me precisely why you feel the need to extract such revenge?"

Harry shook his head ruefully. He should have known better then to try and fool his former professor with pretty words. The sound of rest after spending so much time without was very appealing, and now he was aware that Severus was alive, the agony the potions that had struck his skin were causing was no longer welcome. But the mudblood had to pay…

"Come, Phoenix," Severus said softly, stepping closer still. Harry shivered. He had not allowed himself in such proximity with another, well another _awake_ human since the final battle. It scared him a little. He was not stupid, as much as Severus sometimes enjoyed believing, he knew how much he craved to be loved, to be held. He knew it could be used against him, hell he'd seen just how much damage it could do when it was turned on him first hand.

He realised with a start that Severus was offering him a hand. Harry, albeit still unwilling, found himself reaching out to take it. Without giving him another chance to change his mind, Severus had disapperated the two of them back to Birch Hall. Harry's hand firmly in his the whole way.

A/N: Sorry this is late guys, lot of stuff going on at the moment and it's hard to keep up with my writing. I'll do the best I can to get the next post up on time though.

**Friday two weeks from now: **Severus learns a little about how Harry has become who he has in **Chapter Eight: A little more conversation, a little less action please.**


	8. Mahogany and Manticores

**Chapter Eight: Mahogany and manticores**

They had apperated into the library, which was just as well because Harry, unused to side-along travel, stumbled and collapsed into his chair straight away and Severus, still tired from his illness, collapsed quite happily into the armchair which had quickly become 'his'. Harry winced as an injury long-forgotten kicked into play.

He'd been attempting to get the first Manticore he'd run into to give him some venom but this one hadn't been so agreeable as the beast he had finally collected it off. All Harry could say for him was that he hadn't used said venom in his attack. A simple huge buffet with a clawed talon and Harry had fallen arse over tilt, his side torn quite badly.

As Manticores were magic creatures, a simple spell would not heal the wound inflicted. Harry had decided to just bear it, although he would not 'grin' as the stupid muggle saying went, as he did so. He could not afford to take time out of his search and concoction of potions to keep Severus alive to make one for himself.

Now, as he grimaced and held his side, Harry realised that it had been a stupid idea. God only knew how infected it was now.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked, coming to himself as he sat up a little straighter and stared across the small space between their two chairs to see Harry clutching his right side like it was aching.

"Fine," Harry sighed, waving off his concern. "Is there anything you wanted to ask me? I understand how frustrating it is to be kept out of the loop." Severus saw the flash of fury behind those emerald eyes but it was gone as fast as it had come.

Questions? Did he have questions? What was happening? What had happened at the battle? Why did Harry speak of his friends with such revulsion? Why did he seem so hell bent on revenge? Why did he save Severus's life? How had he done it?

Finally, watching Harry's slump as he lounged in his armchair, Severus settled with,

"When was the last time you slept?" Harry looked startled and gratified by the question as he allowed his eyes to fluttered closed for a mere second.

"Er…well I was making the potion today…in Albania the day before…I stayed there for four days…er…and I spent five days in Alaska and Africa...um…I was in France for two days before that…then the Australian outback for six days…and...yes I slept the night before I set out for Australia," Harry concluded finally with a nod.

Severus calculated hurriedly in his mind.

"But that's eighteen days! That's ridiculous, I didn't even know it was possible to go without sleep for that long," he gaped, his mouth working with silent outrage. Harry shrugged.

"I am not a muggle, I am a powerful wizard who makes powerful Pepper-Up potions, what can I say?"

Severus couldn't speak for his outrage at the man's condition, the state he had let himself fall into, and for Harry's arrogance and self-assurance in his own power. And yet it was almost reassuring to know the man finally understood that he could hold his own, and wouldn't allow anyone else to push him around.

"You've been living off Pepper-Up potions?" Severus inquired finally, his voice flat and emotionless. Harry 'hmm'd' in answer. "Are you aware of the damage that can do to your system?" Harry looked irritated. He didn't want to be preached to by a man who didn't have a simple poison-flushing potion in his whole collection about the damage having, or not having, certain potions could do.

"It's my system to do what I like with it and I hardly had enough time to breath let alone concern myself with sleep," he snapped.

"And what, pray, could possibly have taken up so much of your precious time?" Severus demanded, aware unhappily that they were falling back into their usual wall of insults.

"Trying to save your life was a great portion of it," Harry spat, standing suddenly and clutching his side again, biting his lip to keep from crying out in pain. Severus looked concerned and stood up, walking slowly toward Harry, as though trying not to startle a small bunny rabbit.

"Let me have a look," he commanded quietly. It was as much as an apology as he would give. Harry shook him off.

"It's fine, I've got time to fix up a potion for it now." Severus's eyes were sharp as they scrutinised Harry.

"Did you really spend so much time trying to save me?" he inquired. Harry grimaced.

"Well considering the fact that I didn't know what was wrong with you, that took some time to find out, and that once I did the only known cure had never given details about how it had been done, resulting in me needing to experiment for a long time before finding out exactly how to make the stupid thing, yes a considerable amount of time did go into it," he sighed wearily.

Severus was observing him with an odd look on his face. It was wavering between gratitude, confusion and some kind of awe. It was making Harry increasingly uncomfortable until finally Severus broke the silence.

"Let me have a look at it," he repeated, this time moving to undo the buttons on Harry's robe when it was clear the man had no intention of doing it himself.

"Why Severus, I had no idea you felt that way," Harry quipped, but the tiredness in his voice took the joking air from his words.

Severus ignored him and pulled the scarlet robe off completely, taking care when he heard a hiss escaped Harry's mouth.

"Sorry," he murmured, gently allowing the robe to drop from his hold onto the stone floor and observing the jeans and pale green turtleneck jumper Harry wore. The irony of the colour wasn't wasted on him. He pulled off the jumper, as Harry insisted on being totally unresponsive. He bit back a hiss of sympathy when Harry stood before him in just his shirt.

The wound must have been bad, because at some point or another it had started to bleed again. Although, Severus could not be sure Harry had just not changed his clothes since he had gotten it. The right side of the white t-shirt stuck to Harry's body by copious amounts of blood.

"Not bad my arse," Severus growled, carefully pulling at the t-shirt, aware of the pain of pulling it away from the wound would cause. Harry gritted his teeth by said nothing as his t-shirt also came up, revealing his well-toned if too thin chest. The muscles had been built up during his strenuous physical training the year before, the thinness by skipping numerous meals in the past few months in his hunt for a cure.

His pale chest was covered in thin, curly black hairs and the fact seemed to startle Severus. As if it were the final proof that Harry truly was a man. The raised, white skin of several long scars was apparent, two running across Harry's chest and a third disappearing over his shoulder, and continuing on his back. Severus made a mental note to ask about them, for he was sure he hadn't seen them before the final battle and wasn't sure if they had occurred then, he was pretty sure that hadn't. Was a small shake of his head, he pressed on.

The gash ran from just under Harry's armpit to just above his hip. It was wide open and sluggishly spurting out blood. It held a crusty yellow around it, showing infection and a slight gleam of dark brown magic. Severus let out a growl and ran a gentle finger along it, angry at himself as he saw Harry almost repress his flinch.

"You're an idiot," he growled, half at himself, half at Harry. "I'll make a potion that should fix this up in a second."

"I am more then capable of doing that myself," Harry muttered, eyelids fluttering.

"You need to rest," Severus pointed out.

"As do you and I refuse too unless you do," the impertinent brat had the gall to say. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Always the melodramatic Gryffindor. Fine. We'll sleep, then we'll fix you up, better?" he demanded, his tone supposed to be sarcastic but he found a significant amount of concern in there as well. Harry nodded and slumped. Severus recognised the gesture and gently wrapped Harry's arm around his waist, helping the young man limp towards the stairs. He assumed the limp had been caused by the battle but made another mental note.

He realised halfway up the stairs that he had no idea where Harry's bedroom was. The only rooms he'd explored in his search for Harry were the dining room, the library, a strange room set out with a lot of padding and muggle-looking equipment made out of red leather, and then he'd heard a noise from the tower and headed up there.

"My room's next to yours," Harry yawned, the Pepper-Up potion he'd taken earlier wearing off. It was made to last twenty-four hours but he was building up a thorough resistance to it. Severus nodded curtly and made a path for his room. Harry realised with a sleepy-amusement, that Severus had a very good memory.

Severus pushed open the door to Harry's room, frowning when he saw it was not red and gold as he had expected, nor was it full of lush furniture and an overabundance of things only young men seem to find important. And to top it off, it was spotless. Not a thing was out of place.

The room was rather sombre, especially for a Gryffindor, the heavy black velvet curtains drawn across the large windows, the walls painted a solemn dark grey. The four-poster bed had a mahogany headboard and the bed spread was a deep fawn, and strangely the brightest colour in the room. There was a mahogany beside table, seemingly covered with potions and a strange case Severus guessed was for Harry's wand. In one corner there was a dresser of drawers but no wardrobe. Severus would have found this curious, except through his Occlumency with Harry he'd learned of his upbringing so not wanting any cupboards around was rather understandable. Apart from that, the dark, dark scarlet carpet and a huge black marble fireplace, the room was bare. It was lit only by the flickering of the fire.

'Charming,' Severus snorted, shifting Harry slightly so the young man could rest more weight on his former professor as he limped towards his bed. They reached the side of the huge bed and Severus carefully lowered his charge onto it. Harry sat clumsily on the mattress and gave Severus a half-hearted smile.

"Thanks," he muttered. "A-and…" Harry stifled a huge yawn. "So-sorry. I'll exp-lain better in the morning."

"Shh, sleep now," Severus suggested quietly. Harry seemed to agree, lying down as the exhaustion he had been fighting off for two weeks now hit him like a brick. His head settled into his pillow and he closed his eyes, wondering why he hadn't slept more often…he was about to remember his reasoning hadn't always been a lack of time.

**A/N: Ok, firstly huge apologies everyone!**** There have been a lot of outside issues which have conflicted with my ability to write, and post, any of this story. I much appreciate all of the reviews I have gotten! Rest assured I am still going to finish this fic, but my posts are unlike to be regular any more ******** Very sorry. Outlying medical conditions are the reason behind this.**

**I will still try and post as often as I can. **

**xo. A.P **


	9. Nightmares and Promises

**Chapter Nine: Nightmares and Promises **

_There was something in front of him, moving in the dark space._

"_Harry?" the thing whispered hoarsely. That voice sounded familiar. _

"_R…Remus?" Harry replied, hardly daring to hope. What if the potion had brought Remus back from the dead? What if it was a Greatest Wish potion? What if Neville had just achieved something no one had been able to pull off for over a century? _

_The man walked into view, stark against the black background. He looked haggard, his face still bleeding from where he had attacked himself. He had black rings around his eyes, and a heavy slump in his posture. _

"_Remus?" Harry wanted to jump forward to give the man a hug, or at least support him. He found himself rooted to the spot. However another man stepped forward to help Remus before Harry could reach him. And a third on Remus' other side. Harry couldn't see their faces. _

"_You, you killed me, Harry," Remus snarled, in a voice quite unlike his own. "You killed me. You saw me, you saw what they did, and you didn't try to save me! You saved Severus, but you wouldn't even come to save me. You're a bastard, Harry, you deserve to die." _

"_Remus?" Harry whimpered, tears on his cheeks. _

"_Go to hell, Harry," sneered Remus. "And find the fastest route there." _

_  
Harry would have stumbled backwards if he'd been able to but still felt himself rooted to the spot as Remus turned and walked away into the darkness, allowing it to envelope him, and Harry's last chances of talking to him. _

"_Reemuss!" Harry screamed, fighting against whatever it was that bound him. The second man turned around. Harry didn't want to see him, didn't want to know it was him. Sirius stepped forward, his face showing the intent he had. A heavy hand came down to strike Harry in the mouth._

"_You killed him" he hissed. "And you killed me. You were stupid, you were drawn out by Voldemort. What was I going to do, let them kill you? Let your parents blame me for your final demise when they died to save you? No. You killed me Harry. You may as well have, your stupidity killed me. You couldn't have been more responsible for my death if you had picked up your wand and killed me yourself. I'm glad I died Harry," Sirius' voice had become derisive. "I never have to see you again! The sooner Voldemort kills you the better. Hell, ask Severus to chop you up and throw him into a potion, he could get a nice idiocy potion then. Piss off Harry, burn in hell. I hope you have every moment of suffering you caused me happen to you twice over." _

_Sirius faded into the darkness, leaving Harry in a state of horrified shock as they voiced the feeling's he'd had since their deaths. When the final person turned around, Harry felt sick to his stomach. Glinting red eyes stared him down as the person walked forth, grasping Harry's chin and turning his face up to his own. _

"_Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort chuckled. "How you have helped me. At least when I kill it is for my cause. Why did you drive these men to their graves? Through selfish intent. Tut, tut." _

_Harry flinched away from that rough touch as he felt fear racing through his very veins. _

"_You're wrong," Harry snarled. "I killed two Death Eaters a few months ago." _

"_Indeed, and thank-you. You saved me a mess. Traitors the both of them. Working for your side, or were you not privy to that information? Did Dumbledore find it too horrible for poor sensitive Potter's ears?" _

_Voldemort stepped closer, taking Harry's whole face in his hands. He ran his thumb under the bags under Harry's eyes. _

"_Oooh Harry, you're winning this war single-handedly for me. Do go on, you're so important for me," crooned the Dark Lord as he bent closer. "And you're mine." He was so close Harry could feel his breath on his face. And then his lips were upon Harry's, sucking away his life, no it was like a Dementor's Kiss, sucking away his soul…_

_Harry was screaming, screaming thrashing, fighting. He wouldn't let Voldemort touch him. He couldn't. He wouldn't win the war for him. He didn't kill Remus or Sirius. _

"_Oooh, come now, that's no way to treat me is it?" Voldemort crooned. _

"_No! Don't touch me, don't fucking touch me! You fucking bastard!" _

_Suddenly the darkness ebbed away, replaced by a shimmering field of magic, silver wisps ran through the greenish-gold shimmer of the enchantment._

_Harry could see something, he strained and saw Dumbledore, wand raised a smirk on his face. _

"_SEVERUS! GET OUT! GET OUT!" Harry screamed himself hoarse. "GET OUT! HE'S GOING TO…DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE DUMBLEDORE!"_

"_Oh, but I already have, Harry," Dumbledore smirked, pointing his wand at Severus. "Good-bye Severus, you were such a help."_

_Severus barely had time to look outraged before a green light flashed and he collapsed to the ground, still. _

"_No! NO! NOOO!" Harry was screaming, he knew it as he threw himself up repetitively against the barrier, not caring the pain it brought upon him as he tried desperately to break through. "You fucking bastard! You fucking bastard scum!" _

_Harry felt hands grabbing him, restraining him as he fought. _

"_YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"_

"_Calm down, Harry, it's alright," Voldemort was reassuring him. Voldemort was holding him back…_

"It's alright, Harry, wake up," repeated the voice, as Harry jerked and screamed, tears pouring down his face as he watched the worst moments of his life over and over again. He felt his heart breaking all over again as he saw two people who had been like fathers to him blaming him for what had become of them, and seeing Dumbledore's betrayal again in his mind. "It's alright, Harry, shh." Severus was comforting him. Severus was holding him down on the bed even as he fought wildly to sit up. "It was just a dream, Harry. Shh…"

"D-don't c-call me that…" Harry whispered through chattering teeth.

"Sorry, Phoenix wasn't working," Severus replied with a shrug, allowing Harry to sit up finally. He watched as Harry woke up fully, to discover Severus wasn't the only one who had responded to his screams. Augurey and Dobby also stood by his bed.

"Is Master Phoenix alright?" Dobby asked in his high-pitched squeaky voice. Harry nodded, then clutched his head, he felt a migraine coming on.

'I'm fine, Dobby,' Harry groaned. 

"Forgive Dobby for saying, but you isn't looking it, sir," Dobby replied. Severus watched curiously, was Harry actually conversing with the house-elf? Or was Dobby simply not waiting for a reply.

'_I will be soon, Dobby. I merely require a potion and I will be fine." _

"If you is saying so, sir," Dobby answered looking dubious.

'_I do. Thank-you for your concern,' _Harry finished, smiling tightly at his friend as he clicked his fingers and was gone. Harry was aware of the tears he was still weeping and made a hurried movement to remove them. He was also conscious of the fact that Severus had yet to let him go, one arm still around his shoulders, and that he had never put a top back on last night.

Augurey clambered onto the bed and crawled over to Harry, glaring at his friend.

_You need to take more care, _he chided.

'_I could hardly help it, Aug, it was a dream,' _Harry sighed, rubbing his scar. It usually burned after such nightmares.

_What about your potions? _Augurey demanded. _And why haven't you fixed that? _He was indicating the large wound. _And why are you covered in black potion spots? And…_

"LEAVE IT, AUGUREY!" Harry yelled suddenly, causing Severus to jump. He hadn't heard a word of their conversation. He stared curiously as the Demiguise looked thoroughly ashamed of itself and shot Harry what he assumed was an apologetic look before climbing up next to the man and giving him a hug!

_I'm sorry, _Augurey sighed, gently hugging Harry. He had done it several times before, when Harry had woken from nightmares and needed reassurances, and once when he was completely off his face and fallen down the stairs, cutting his knee and reverting to his five-year-old self. _Take care okay? I just don't want to see anything happen to you._

'_I know,' _Harry murmured, face buried in fur. _'I'm sorry too. Really I'll be alright.' _

The Demiguise finally seemed satisfied and, with a nod, clambered off the bed and loped from the room. Severus watched it leave and turned back to Harry who seemed to be trying, unsuccessfully, to stop the tears still making their way in little trails down his face.

"You can communicate with the animal?" he asked curiously, then could have hit himself. That was _not_ what he wanted to say!

"Mmm, telepathy," Harry murmured. "Could you pass me the orange jar please?"

Severus turned and saw the item on the bedside table. He grabbed it, noting the thick orange paste he used sometimes when imbecilic students got their potions on them. Namely, Neville Longbottom. Harry began applying it liberally to the large black areas on his body that Severus recognised with a sudden start. How hadn't he seen them before? What had caused them? They must have been giving Harry a lot of pain.

"What happened?" he asked, waving at the wounds Harry was rubbing salve on. Harry grimaced.

"It doesn't matter," he grumbled, rubbing the sticky paste very carefully on a particularly nasty spot, recalling that it was where the first potion had struck. It had been a dark potion, one that, when swallowed, would make a person live in their own nightmares for days at a time. Having just woken up from a nightmare, he wondered how he could ever consider forcing that on another person.

'Because they deserve it. You would not have such nightmares if it weren't for them,' his mind pointed out with a hiss.

Harry's shoulder set and the hard look his face usually held returned as he nodded. It was true. He would make some more soon.

"I think it does," Severus pressed, but seeing Harry's face changed his tact. "What were you dreaming of that made you cry out so? I believe your ape heard you from the dungeons."

"His name is Augurey, he is a Demiguise and he wouldn't have been in the dungeons. They are forbidden to all but me," Harry finished absent-mindedly.

"Why?" Severus's gaze was genuinely curious and forced down his snicker at the name. Augurey: Irish Phoenix.

"Because I make my potions down there," Harry yawned. "And you really don't want that stuff being fiddled with."

"So I can see," Severus replied dryly, indicating Harry's orange spotted body. "Have you decided you have an aptitude for potions finally then?"

Harry shrugged, attempting, in vain, to rub the ointment onto a spot on his back.

"I just figured now we've vanquished Voldie we need another common interest or two," he retorted dryly, and was rewarded with a smile. Severus took the jar from his hands.

"Lye down," he instructed, which Harry obeyed promptly, lying down on his front but propping his chest up with his elbows so as not to smear the ointment on his torso before it had a chance to sink in as Severus carefully began smoothing the cream over his back. Severus worked gently, rubbing in cool circles that had Harry practically hypnotised. "You really need to learn some respect," he informed Harry.

"But I do respect you, Sevvie," Harry smirked into the pillow. He felt a hand grasp his hair and pull him up, albeit not roughly so Severus could hiss in his ear.

"I call you Phoenix, you call me Severus, okay?" Harry nodded, although it was more of a jerk downwards and forced back up as the hand still restrained his hair. "Good. Now, you say we need another common interest? And why, pray tell, did you decide for this to be potions?"

"Because then I was killing two birds with one stone," Harry replied softly. Severus finished, closed the jar, much to Harry's disappointment, and flipped the man onto his back.

"Two birds with one stone?" he inquired.

"Well I guess I just discovered the same thing you did," Harry gave a reckless, charming grin. "The best Dark Arts are potions."

Severus seemed to freeze, blinking at Harry from where he perched on the bed.

"W-what?" he stammered, face suddenly dead white. Harry frowned and propped himself up on his elbow.

"What? I could hardly punish them with friggin' jelly leg hexes now could I?" he demanded, his face tight and angry once more, the joking air to the conversation evaporated instantly.

"After everything I told you about the Dark Arts and what it did to me you decided to turn to them!" Severus demanded, springing up off the bed suddenly and shooting Harry his famous 'death glare'. Harry didn't look fazed.

"What would you have had me do? Run away with my tail between my legs like they wanted? Pretend like it didn't happen?" he replied, his lazy tone making an angry Severus irate.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Just tell me why the hell you thought it was alright to go to the Dark Arts! Do you have any idea what can happen when you mess with the Dark Arts? Has nothing I've ever taught you made it into that dense head?" Severus was practically howling now. He paused for breath and glared icily down at Harry whose expression was almost feral.

"That's the best part of it," he snickered. "Consequences don't matter! Dumbledore didn't think about that! See here's the problem, they messed with someone who had nothing left to lose," Harry sniggered viciously. Severus just watched him with his mouth hung wide open.

"I need to get the full story," he commanded, sitting warily back down on the bed. He was damned if he was about to be ruled by another Dark Lord. And he was beginning to suspect Harry's motives for saving him mightn't be all that savoury.

"I'll cut it down and you can have details tomorrow," Harry murmured, his weariness already coming back on. Despite his fear of more nightmares he had to sleep. "Everyone I ever thought was my friend was working for Dumbledore and Voldemort. Dumby and Voldie were working together the whole time, plotting to take over the world as the two most powerful sorcerers' alive, but decided to have some fun at my expense. Their problem was that in the final battle the vision had me wary and I took down Voldie, which wasn't part of their plan, and now Dumby is playing innocent again and I'm hell bent on revenge, capuche?" Severus was staring at him like he'd lost his mind. Now he really thought about it, Harry supposed it did sound a bit like the plot of a really bad soap.

"Excuse me?" Severus said lamely in the end. Harry repeated himself, a bit slower. "Oh, well that explains everything," the professor commented finally. Harry raised an eyebrow at the sarcasm but at least the potion's master didn't seem mad at him any more. Harry sighed and laid down, burrowing deep under the covers so only a mop of black hair and a pair of deep emerald owl eyes poked up above the duvet.

"I really don't approve but I'm guessing I don't know the full story and I'm willing to wait to find out before I judge," Severus said ultimately. He watched Harry getting under the covers. The man seemed tired, although two weeks without sleep would do that to a person. Severus suddenly remembered why he was in here.

"What were you dreaming about?" he inquired, unconsciously smoothing a piece of Harry's hair away from his forehead. Harry shifted into the touch, a strange look of mixed concern, anxiety and hope sprung into his face. It broke Severus' heart.

"Er…I…the vision I had last year when Neville stuffed up his potion and it exploded all over me," Harry shrugged. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"You never explained to me about that vision," he told Harry pointedly. Harry sighed and explained quickly.

"And then he said 'you're mine' and he…he…" He shivered. "He kissed me." Severus looked sicked for a moment. He couldn't believe it. The whole thing was too…ergh. The poor boy…man. Well it explained some things about him spacing out completely and making his way into the forest. Voldemort had properly set up the Acromantula as some kind of test of Harry's strength.

"And at what point did you start screaming my name?" he inquired, for it had been Harry's desperate cries for him that had awoken him in the first place. Two red spots appeared in the young hero's cheeks.

"Er…that was actually a different dream…well the same one…that is it joined on…but it was different…" Harry stammered. At Severus's impatient look he conceded and told him briefly about what he'd seen on the battlefield.

"Well…that's quite a bit to take in," Severus commented dryly, rubbing his forehead as he felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. He realised Harry probably still had one and studied the vials beside him, pulling out a maroon one and handing it to the man, who promptly drank half the contents and passed it back. Severus, surprised and gratified, drank the rest. "Why don't you take Dreamless Sleep potion?" he asked, placing the vial back down on the dresser, only to have Harry snake a hand out of the covers to move it to a shelf above the bedside table.

"So I know when I need to make more," he explained at Severus's inquiring look. The man nodded, impressed that Harry had the foresight to be so organised. "As to your other question, I tried. Doesn't work. They're pretty insistent nightmares," he added with a mirthless chuckle. "Besides, I'm usually tired enough to pass out, which means the worst of them are staved off. Otherwise I deal." He shrugged. Severus, being Severus, read between the lines of his statement.

"You get these nightmares every night?"

"Yeah, since the battle," Harry shrugged again. "Doesn't matter."

"It most certainly does!" Severus growled as Harry yawned again and his stern face softened, moving another piece of Harry's jet-black hair. "But we'll worry about it in the morning. Try and rest some more." Harry grumbled agreement and snuggled down further. Severus smiled down at him sadly before standing and turning towards the door. "I'm just in the next room if you need me." He was, therefore, very shocked when he felt something restraining him. Glancing back he found a hand attached to his pyjamas.

"C…can you stay? Please?" Harry whispered, his voice almost pitiful. Severus smiled again and nodded.

"Of course," he replied, gently untangling himself from Harry's steel grip and poking the man to make him move over. Harry did so without complaint, watching as Severus slipped under the sheets. Without asking, Harry snuggled closer to the potions master, his body demanding to be held. Severus complied and watched as a peaceful look graced the harsh features of the young Gryffindor.

Harry rested his head against Severus's shoulder, revelling in the wonderful, secure feeling those warm arms gave him. It had been so long, too long. He almost wanted to sob with joy at finally truly feeling he was loved. Here was a man who had stood by him, who had honestly not betrayed him, and who had still survived. Severus seemed to be contemplating something as he began to absent-mindedly run his finger through the renegade inky hair.

"Would it be so bad if I did?" he spoke up finally. Harry raised a sleepy eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to make yourself clearer. Did what?"

"If I did…feel…that way…" Severus said hesitantly. Harry's breathing was deep and it was apparent that sleep was nearly upon him.

"No," he mumbled, his face buried in his pillow as his eyes closed. "No, not at all…"

Severus smiled, and tenderly ran a hand down Harry's cheek.

"Good," he whispered softly, but Harry was already asleep.

The change in the man while he slept was strange and sad. He visibly relaxed, until the nightmares came on. He nuzzled close to Severus's warm body, unconsciously seeking to be held tighter. Even in his sleep, the love he was so starved of made him crave every affectionate touch.

His face held none of the malice it showed consistently throughout the day, but the anguish was still there, in the creased forehead and the restless tossing. Severus repressed a snort. He found it difficult to imagine Harry as the next Dark Lord. Honestly, who did the man think he was fooling? He had too good a heart to be a Dark Lord. A shattered heart, that much was clear, but a heart all the same.

Something caught Severus's eye in the corner of the room and he tried to sit up to get a better look at the shimmering object but Harry's insistent arms pulled him back down onto the bed. Severus was pretty sure about what he'd seen though and it intrigued him. If Harry was really as evil as he seemed to believe he was, why would he need a pensieve?

Without a doubt, he'd say something like 'to watch them suffer over and over again' but Severus wasn't buying it. He had a feeling Harry's shattered heart was breaking a little more each day, and the pensieve was his only link to trying to keep his mind.

Severus smiled sadly at Harry's face contorted in the obvious pain of another nightmare and gently ironed out the creases on his forehead with long, gentle fingers. Harry visibly relaxed beside him, the nightmare subsiding. Severus was determined to help his friend, he didn't know the full story, for all he knew Harry was completely off his rocker and Dumbledore had never done a thing to harm him, but Severus didn't care. He'd stand by Harry no matter what he'd done.

Leaning forward, he gently kissed Harry's forehead and unknowingly whispered words much like the ones Harry had whispered to him as he slept the previous year.

"I'll make you see happiness again, Harry, I promise."

**A/N: **_Ok so firstly, I didn't get a chance to proofread this so sorry for any mistakes. I'll be revising the whole story once it's finished. Secondly, I know I know, corny ending. I don't really care. I'll try and keep Severus more in character after that line.__Finally, thanks to all of you who have stuck by this story despite how erratic my posts have become. I dedicate this chapter in all of its glorious extra length, to you!_


	10. Small Talk

**Chapter Ten: Small Talk**

Harry woke to the bed shifting beneath him, despite the fact that he was completely still. He froze, eyes still partially shut to give the impression he was still asleep. What was going on? He hadn't been having a nightmare, he hadn't tried any new potions, which could only mean one thing, he'd been drugged!

The shape of the person who had moved the bed was standing by its side still. Harry felt a shiver of dread go through him. He felt incredibly vulnerable, simply lying there, his chest bare and still wearing his potion-stained jeans from the night before. Still keeping cover he gave little fake sleep-induced moan and rolled over to the edge of the bed, loosening the covers as he went so he could spring out more easily.

The person by his bed reached down to touch his forehead, running a finger over his scar. Before they had a chance to inflict pain in the way that Voldemort could so effectively, Harry grabbed the arm, twisting it, rolling onto his stomach and ramming his back up into the arm at the same time, using a neat flicking movement and his back as leverage to send the person flying onto the bed with a shocked yell.

Harry knelt on his prisoner, grabbing a chunk of long hair and twisting their head up, their face still disguised by the shadows of early morning.

"Who the hell are you, what the hell do you want and how did you get in here?" he snarled, voice laden with dangerous undertones. He knew he was weaker then he should be but it wasn't like he could take time out to search for more Pepper-Up potion. Damn thing probably wouldn't work anyway. His voice was thunderous and his magic caused the curtains around his bed flap restlessly.

"Phoenix, it's me!" a strangled voice finally managed to gasp out. Harry paused for a second, suspicion lacing his words,

"Severus?"

"Yes!" Severus groaned. Harry didn't let go of his hair.

"How do I know you're not a Death Eater? Well…you know…" he added rather sheepishly.

"Ask me anything!" Severus retorted.

"When and why did we become friends?" Harry replied automatically. They never shared the story, they simply said working together had made them each realise the other wasn't so bad. There was more too it.

"Well it was a gradual build up of things," Severus muttered, sounding so unsure Harry felt his heart clench. It had to be an intruder! What if Severus had been hurt? "But the main turning point was when I tried to help save Remus Lupin's life and was caught by the Dark Lord. He tortured me for some time and you and a band of the Order broke in to save me." Harry nodded but stayed where he was, now gripping his wand and digging it suspiciously into Severus's back. Any Death Eater who had survived the incident would know about it. They could have guessed that it was the turning point. "You helped me walk…hobble rather, up to the castle. You tucked me into bed and…you kissed me," Severus finished with a slight sigh.

"Okay, it is you," Harry said finally, clambering off the potions master. "Sorry about that. I'm supposed to be helping you not hurting you but y'know, when everyone you ever cared about's decided they want to kill you, you tend to get a bit tense," he snorted bitterly. Severus was raising an eyebrow as Harry wearily rubbed his forehead.

"So I see. I think we need to have breakfast, get you fixed up and then we are having a loooooooong chat about what's going on. Are you aware of the fact I have no idea how long I was in a coma for?" Severus added, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Obviously not too long because I'm still pretty much clean shaven," he added with a chuckle touching his chin, which had the very beginnings of overnight stubble on it. "But long enough for some serious things to happen."

"Er…actually I cast a shaving charm on you," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck and running a hand through his ruffled black hair. "You were out for about six months, give or take."

"WHAT!" Severus roared, eyes bulging. Unlike the Harry he had known, this Harry didn't move of flinch at his fury. He shrugged.

"Hell, it took me that long to work out a cure."

Severus's throat was dry and he reminded himself sharply that Harry had worn himself into this condition to save Severus's life.

"Alright. Care to show me where you cooked up the miracle potion so I may do some potion making of my own?" he asked finally, calming himself down. Harry nodded and began off at his limping gait, still shirtless and revealing the wound had bled a little more since last night. Severus bit his lip, stopping himself for asking a galling question in a very inappropriate manner.

He followed Harry down the staircase, noting that the man didn't even seem to loosen up in his own home, constantly scanning the area like Severus had taught him. Sometimes he even paused when he heard a noise and obviously telepathically called to the other members of the house to see if they had made the sound.

"Do you ever relax?" he asked, his voice half amused, half concerned. Harry snorted.

"Can't relax, that's when you get killed." Severus decided it was better not to comment and followed Harry down into what he realised was the dungeons. He smirked; feeling ridiculously chuffed that Harry had put his potions' lab in said dungeons.

Harry's mind flashed back to the incidents of the previous night and commented wearily,

"I'm going to have to clean up a bit so don't step on anything."

"You keep the place in a mess?" Severus growled irritated. "Do you know how dangerous it is to brew potions in a cluttered space?"

"Do you know how angry and distraught I was when I thought I'd killed you?" Harry retorted in a mocking high-pitched imitation of Severus. Severus palled as Harry gave the door a shove and it opened to reveal a large, cool, dark room.

There were several long tables, one chair and several large shelves. A couple of cauldrons sat off to one side while another was thrown on its side, whatever potion that had been in it dried onto its surface and the floor which it had spilt onto. One of the long shelves had crashed down at one point and all of the potions that had obviously rested on it had fallen, as though someone had thrown themselves into it.

Frowning, Severus thought of Harry's markings and wasn't so sure that wasn't exactly what happened. His eye was caught by a small cupboard in the corner. It was iron and had the image of broken shields around it. There was one shield that held strong though and he stepped forward, reaching out curiously to touch it.

"Don't!" Harry's voice cut through his amazed stupor harshly. "That's how I ended up on top of the tower," he warned as Severus almost looked like he was going to disobey just to prove Harry wasn't the boss of him.

"You…how long has this been here? Was it here when you moved in?" Severus inquired curiously. "Why would the curse take you to the tower? What's in there?"

"Since you arrived, obviously not, because I told it too, and that ridiculously powerful poison that you had unlabelled in your supplies for some reason," Harry replied crisply. Severus looked startled.

"You went through my potions? You _took_ one?" he growled, looking angry.

"I _took_ all of them," Harry retorted, his voice mocking once more.

"Why?" Now Severus's anger was more like outrage.

"BECAUSE I WAS TRYING TO SAVE YOUR FUCKING LIFE AND YOU ARE THE BEST POTIONS MASTER AROUND SO WHO BETTER TO GET POTIONS FROM?" Harry yelled suddenly, brow creased with frustration at Severus's attitude. Could the man understand nothing? Severus just stood there, gobsmacked for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he murmured finally. Harry nodded curtly and went about grabbing one of the empty cauldrons in the sink in the corner of the room. As he scrubbed the cauldron sparkling clean and tested it with Hinkypunk tears, Severus looked hesitantly at the cupboard again. "Why did you lock it up?"

"That stuff's volatile," Harry growled, refusing to admit his weakness as he began to pull the cauldron over to the bench and lifted it to place it on the table. With a wave of his wand he vanquished the broken vials and bottles of potions that had shattered through his rage and fixed the shelf with ease. He sighed at the remains of the potions which had taken so long to make and waved his hand again, effectively evaporating the remainders and sending the cauldron off into the sink.

"Was that the potion that saved me?" Severus asked quietly, leaving the other question for now, sensing it was rather delicate for Harry.

"Yes," Harry muttered. "What a waste."

Severus wasn't completely sure if he meant the potion being spilled, or Severus being saved so he kept his comment to himself and began looking for ingredients as Harry summoned another cauldron over, without his wand.

"You're pretty good at that you know," he commented airily. Harry stiffened from where he was hunched over a cauldron, his whole body going ridged, Severus saw his knuckles going white from where he gripped the table.

"Do not make small talk," Harry finally ground out. "I don't appreciate it." The bewildered potions master fell silent. He didn't understand what was going on, or who this person was. He didn't know how to react and he knew his normal sarcasm and acerbity would not go down well. He saw Harry had started making a potion that was not to heal his wound and immediately set about making that one himself.

He noticed the delicacy and care Harry was taking with his potion, marvelling at the changes in the man and thinking sadly that in different circumstances Harry could be a fine potions master. What were his circumstances? He didn't know. As if reading his mind, and Severus realised with a shiver that he probably could, Harry took a moment to speak.

"After breakfast I will explain to you the unfortunate position you find yourself in," he told Severus in a clipped tone. Severus simply nodded, unable to think of another appropriate response and began searching for dragon hide. "Third drawer," Harry growled, once again with the mind-reading ability!

'And who would have thought there would be a day when Harry Potter was ordering you about like an overbearing, paranoid, sarcastic son-of-a-bitch while you just try and make civil conversation?' Severus's mind demanded astringently. 'Oh how the tables have turned my dear potions master.'

They worked in silence for half-an-hour, Severus finished first. He watched as Harry placed a bit of Doxy venom into the mixture, making it turn a volatile orange. He wondered what the concoction was and felt himself ill-at-ease, hoping it was nothing dark. Although, he grimaced, it probably wasn't judging by how fast Harry had downed it once it was in the vial.

Harry promptly reached out for the pasty ointment Severus had just made and was passed it silently. He began spreading it on his wound, thick and greasy as it was it soothed the injury immediately. He let an uttered sigh of relief slip past his lips and his eyes flashed with momentary alleviated pain. Severus shook his head, damn boy…man, would never put himself before others would he?

"Breakfast?" he suggested as Harry finished, capping the jar and washing away the cream off his fingers with a wave of his wand as Severus peered around the room once more, storing away questions for later. Harry nodded, finishing stoppering the vials he had been filling with potion and placing them on the now empty shelf.

'_Dobby!' _he called silently.

"Master called?" Dobby asked courteously, appearing in front of them with a crack. Severus jumped, not having heard Harry's summons.

"Could you prepare some breakfast please?" Harry requested, speaking out-loud this time for Severus's sake. Dobby looked so enthusiastic it almost made the former professor sick. Who would be so eager to serve an over-baring off the rails master?

"We…we is eating again?" Dobby inquired, his voice trembling from shock and joy at the same time. Severus looked thoroughly shocked. What did the house-elf mean? Had Harry been starving his loyal little beast? Harry himself was sighing and running a hand up his healing wound, the potion he had taken combating the infection.

"I never told you, you should _stop _eating," he retorted, irritated.

"We told you, sir, that if you did not eat we did not eat," Dobby pointed out cautiously.

"How do you know I didn't eat on my trips? Hmm?" Harry growled.

"Begging your pardon, Master Phoenix, but no one can eat and still look as thin and ill as you do when they travel," Dobby replied, clearly forcing down a triumphant grin as Harry ran a weary hand through his hair.

"The point is mute anyway," he muttered. "We need enough for you, me, Augurey, Hedwig and Severus." Dobby bowed once more and disappeared.

"You eat with an owl, a house-elf and a Demiguise?" Severus inquired, clearly surprised.

"When you've been alone as long as I have you take what company you can get," Harry snapped defensively. Severus pondered the double meaning to the answer.

They stayed silent as Harry lead the way to the Great Hall, shoving the doors open with a force Severus had not seen in him before, and wondered just how much his injury had been holding him back.

Dobby already sat at the table, Augurey beside him and Hedwig at her usual perch. Food spread out, toast, eggs of all kinds, muggle and wizarding cereals, bread, spreads and other nick-nacks covered a corner of the table. Severus noted with interest that Harry sat across from the Demiguis and house-elf, next to his owl, rather then at the head of the table. Perhaps he was not as comfortable with his power as he liked to think.

"So what did happen at the battle?" Severus asked finally, and watched as Harry froze in the midst of feeding Hedwig a piece of bacon. The man looked at him icily.

"I will show you after breakfast," he growled. Severus didn't see why, it wasn't like he'd seen Harry do anything other then feed Hedwig the whole time. It wasn't right to eat nothing for so long. Obviously, the others had noticed too, they hadn't touched a thing.

"If you want to starve yourself, go ahead. But at least find a way to make them eat," Severus retorted irritably, sick of Harry's attitude. Harry glanced at Dobby and Augurey and frowned.

"Eat," he told them, motioning to the food. Augurey crossed his arms across his chest, a very awkward movement for a beast with such large biceps.

_Not unless you do, _he retorted.

"Oh for…look!" Harry snarled, grabbing a piece of toast and all but forcing it down his own throat whole. Dobby and Augurey immediately began to eat, testament to how hungry they really were. Severus had finished already and watched Harry curiously to see if he would eat more.

"Come with me," Harry growled suddenly, glaring at Severus as he stood, jerking the table slightly. Severus obeyed in surprise. He'd obviously done something to tick his host off but what? He watched as Harry stormed into the library and pointed at a chair. "Sit!" he barked.

"I am not a dog," Severus retorted, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Then be glad I'm not making you beg," Harry snapped. "Do you want to know what's going on or not?" Severus's only reply was to sit hurriedly in the chair. Harry muttered something bitter and stormed over to the fire, using floo he disappeared for a moment and re-appeared a second later, this time holding bowl full of sloshing liquid.

Harry placed the pensieve roughly down on the table, his face unreadable, awash with millions of emotions.

"You wanna know what's going on? You got it. But I'm warning you, you go in there and you get it all. My life has not been sunshine and daisies lately, Severus, and I have no intention of letting you think it is. You will be seeing from the battle onwards. I will not be coming in with you," he added, almost as an afterthought but spoken in a craggy voice to let Severus know the pain was too fresh. "You'd better be prepared to see all of it, because I'm sure as hell not coming in to rescue you should the need arise. Got it?"

Severus stared at the swirling liquid for a moment, a frown lingering on his face. What could possibly be so absolutely terrible, what could top his days as a Death Eater in horrifying and terrifying him? He nodded to answer Harry's question. He was about to find out.

Harry motioned, stony-faced, to the bowl of his innermost thoughts and memories. He turned away, as though it was unbearable to contemplate what was in the bowl as Severus reached out and touched a long, white finger to the surface. A ripple ran through the liquid as he felt himself being pulled in.

Harry turned to the bowl again, a sad, twisted smirk on his face.

_**A\U: The usually apologies, and a huge thanks for all of your messages of support! **_


	11. Spells and Spats

**Chapter Eleven: Spells and Spats**

Severus Snape was wounded. Not physically, but deep within his soul as he stood beside Harry, a Harry who looked so much younger, and yet it was just over six months ago. He saw through Harry's eyes the betrayal as it occurred, he saw himself fall at the hand of Albus Dumbledore, and he saw Harry's wrath as he attacked Voldemort. He felt the boy's triumph as he won, and his despair that he was so imminently fated for his own demise as he collapsed.

He watched as Harry woke up in the hospital wing, completely missing Severus's unconscious figure in the bed two beds along. Not that Severus could blame him, after all, he was beyond distressed. Severus's eyes widened as he heard Harry's words to the headmaster. Harry had actually told Albus Dumbledore to 'kiss my arse' and that Voldemort was nothing? Although at that moment, after seeing what had happened and feeling his own hatred ramming through his veins viciously, Severus admitted he was up for sending a few curses the headmaster's way as well.

Next came a few scenes of boring things, buying a house where the auctioneer wanted to give it to Harry for free after realising who it was. Harry managing to haggle him up to half-price, his disgust at getting special treatment apparent for all to see.

Then came Harry meeting Augurey as the Demiguise was pursued by hunters who Harry thoroughly taught a lesson. Harry inviting Augurey to live with him, if it was what the creature so chose. It was.

Dobby appearing excitedly to offer his services to Harry, who accepted grudgingly, simply because he was so busy studying he had precious little time to cook or clean. Harry becoming more and more fascinated with the Dark Arts and potions as he worked around the clock, preparing his revenge.

Next was the day that he had seen the Daily Prophet, Severus read the article over Harry's shoulder, surprised by what it contained as he saw the man, burning was fury and grief, practically fly from the room until he was reminded he could apperate and did so easily, slicing through Hogwarts wards like so much butter. He rescued Severus, attacked Dumbledore, broken through Severus's wards, taken his things and spared a second to look at the clock before leaving a dire warning and apperating home.

Dumbledore had followed. The young, or not so young, Gryffindor put up a fight without really fighting as his former friends and mentor attempted to smooth over their lies. A simple spell caused him to collapse. Animals of the forest drove away the intruders.

Severus watched Harry attack a young family without a sense of care, simple a pure hatred and loathing fuelling him now that he had truly become The Dark Phoenix. And yet there was still humanity in him, for though he allowed the parents to die very painful and angst-filled deaths, he spared the child.

Severus saw every attack Harry had made since then, the blood, the pain as he left his signature each time. The fact that Harry only attacked people who remained loyal to Dumbledore and therefore thought Harry was crazy, or those people who remained loyal to neither party and attacked Harry himself was not lost on Severus.

Some of the spells Severus saw Harry use were past horrible. They were Dark spells, spells even some Death Eaters would hesitate to use. He saw Harry developing his powers, his anger only heightening with each attempt Dumbledore made to stop his rampage. Each time he hurt or maimed someone, Harry left the children alone.

Severus wondered if it was malice, if he wanted them to feel the orphan he had been. But felt himself swaying more to the way that Harry still had humanity in him, especially when he appeared at a woman's house after hearing about her abusing her son, and promptly found him another home, swiftly dealing with the offenders.

He saw Harry's desperate search for a cure for himself, he saw him as he fought to write and find cures, searching through every book he could find, depriving himself of sleep and food. He saw Harry making potion after potion to sustain the Potions Master for just a little longer as he tried to find the potion that would save his friend.

Severus followed Harry through the forests and deserts as he hoped against hope that this was the cure that would work. He watched Harry negotiate with beasts long since forgotten to man. He watched him heal the beast of no species or name. He watched as he drained himself with his efforts, occasionally getting into fights with animals, but always coming out on top, without harming the beast. Harry found his last stop, a Manticore with a foul temper. Severus actually cried out as he saw the beast rear up on its hind legs and charge Harry, slashing his fiercely as the nimble man rolled away into the cover of some bushes and the Manticore ran away.

Harry quickly made himself a truss and continued on, not sparing a second thought for his own pain as he hunted out a new beast to replace the one that had just attacked, this time successfully.

Severus watched Harry go home, ignoring his weariness as he re-checked the ingredients he had and the potion he had made-up. He used the ingredients well, and carefully, leaving no room for a mistake. He waited patiently when it was necessary, seemingly not thinking at all as his eyes glazed and he stared unmovingly at the wall. Then the potion was complete.

He followed Harry up to his own room, while the Gryffindor grinned wildly, practically shoving his Demiguise friend over, and watched as the man hesitated to feed him the potion that would save Severus's life. Until finally…he tipped.

"Come on, Severus," Harry croaked, his throat thick with fear and croaking with disuse. The Demiguise must have asked Harry something because the man rounded on him furiously.

"OF COURSE I AM! DO YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD GIVE IT TO HIM OTHERWISE?"

The Demiguise rolled his eyes. They waited a moment and Severus saw his own chest stop moving. Harry looked devastated and he began to shake.

"NO!" Harry's face was ashen, the colour drained faster then he could apperate. He grabbed Severus's shoulders and shook him roughly. "NO! WAKE UP! WAKE UP YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WAKE UP!" Severus was surprised to see he didn't wake up. He knew the potion had worked so what on earth? Harry stormed from the room, grief written in his face. Severus had to follow, these were Harry's memories after all.

He saw Harry run into his dungeons, slamming things about smashing potions and ruining the cure. He saw Harry screaming in his mind as he threw himself at that iron box. Severus sucked in a breath. He understood now why Harry had locked it up and put the curses on it. Harry was through the curses. All but one. Severus watched in shock and despair as Harry threw himself triumphantly at the box.

He shouldn't have blinked, Severus decided, because the next second he was on top of the tower where he had found Harry. And Harry seemed to be contemplating jumping. He looked as though he might, then his face paled even more, now it was dead white, and he collapsed to the ground, weeping.

Severus felt a sharp tug but wasn't surprised. This was where he had come in. He knew the story from here, and was therefore shocked to be thrown into another memory.

_It was Harry, in his summer at the Dursley's before the sixth year. He was in his bedroom, staring out across the neighbourhood like his whole world had crashed down around his ears. Which, to him, it had. As much as he hated to admit it, Severus had seen how torn the boy had been about Sirius' death. He wondered why Harry had placed such a simple memory into the pensieve. He got his answer a second later. _

"_Boy!" Vernon Dursley burst through Harry's bedroom door with no further warning, tiny eyes bulging in his fat face. Harry turned to face his uncle. "What do you think you're doing? You have to mow the lawn! Don't glare at me!" spat the revolting man. _

_Harry's face changed to a smirk. _

"_I'm so sorry, Uncle dearest, if I've offended you." _

"_Don't think you can get away with threatening me with that mongrel godfather of yours either," Vernon added triumphantly. Severus wondered if the double entendre was intended. "I heard you whimpering in your sleep. Oooh, oooh, no Sirius! Sirius!" Vernon snorted as he pretended to wipe away tears. "He's dead, like you should be, but at least someone's made a good start at wiping the filth off this earth!" _

_Harry had kept calm during the entire speech, much to Severus's surprise. _

"_You're right, Sirius is dead. You know the problem with that, Uncle," Harry stressed the word sarcastically. "I don't need protecting any more."_

"_Oh really?" Vernon snarled, stepping forward to backhand Harry across the face. Harry didn't even flinch, and Severus felt ridiculously proud of him, even as he stood there with blood dripping down from a split eyebrow. _

"_Really," Harry agreed._

"_You can't do magic, you little freak," Vernon taunted. "That school of yours'll expel you." _

"_See, true in one respect, and so wrong in another," Harry grinned, his eyes flashing dangerous. "You see, they would expel me, but they need me. They would expel me, but they can only track my wand, and they would expel me, but I'll be dead long before the next school year begins anyway." Vernon seemed baffled and chose to attempt to strangle his nephew instead of trying to take in the words. _

_He was thrown off and into a wall. Harry approached, his voice and eyes menacing. _

_  
"I gave you fair warning," he snarled, pointing a single, slim finger at his uncle. Severus could read the thought in his mind as he did so, as his uncle cowered beneath him. '_Crucio_, you bastard!' But nothing happened. "You're not worth it," Harry finished, spitting on the man and turning back to the window. Vernon left the room in a hurry. _

_Harry walked back to the window and smirked again, a small smirk of self-loathing. _

"_Dead long before then," he added musingly. "Long before." _

Severus suddenly felt a hand on his elbow and turned to see Harry Potter standing beside him, face white and drawn and his knuckles white as they clenched into fists.

"Come," he commanded, and they were soaring upwards and out of the pensieve. Harry strode straight over to the fire, throwing on a new branch of firewood, despite the fact it was enchanted, simply to release a bit of his pent up emotions. Severus fell into a chair, surprised at himself when he realised he was crying.

"You weren't supposed to see that one," Harry said finally, his voice crackling with unspoken emotions.

"I guessed that," Severus replied, his voice tinged with anguish and despair. Harry had tried to tell him how terrible it would be. Tried to condense it so he would get the tiniest idea but he hadn't, couldn't accept it. So now to answer his questions. What could be more horrible then his Death Eater days? Would could make him want to weep with despair and helplessness? What could make him want to crawl into a corner and die? Simple. Harry Potter and the betrayal that had turned him into who he had become.

He had an insatiable urge to go and hug the grief stricken young man who stared into the fire like he wished it would gobble him up. After what he had just witnessed, Severus wasn't surprised. The urge to comfort grew more insistent, and so he didn't fight it any longer. Severus stood and moved across the room in swift steps, turning a miserable Harry to face him and enveloping the smaller man in an embrace, hard and possessive.

"I don't want pity," Harry mumbled, even as he clutched onto his former professor and buried his face in his shoulder.

"Good. I don't want to give it," Severus replied, pressing his lips to Harry's unruly hair.

Their relationship changed right then, they both knew it, subtle as it was. They knew it would never be the same, they had lain the barest facts down without really doing so, and neither wanted to be the one to take it away again. So neither did.

Severus awoke the next morning, frowning. He knew something was wrong. He didn't know what. Something was wrong with Harry. Of course, the man was probably brooding, as they had avoided each other the rest of the previous day, allowing Severus to get used to what he had seen in the pensieve before they discussed it, but Severus thought it was more then that.

Getting to his feet, he felt his head spin and groped around in the darkness for the blood-replenishing potion Harry had commanded he take every morning for the rest of the week to make up for months without really having enough blood in his body. He drank it down quickly, and his head steadied as he began to pad towards Harry's rooms, in hopes of finding him there. What he found made his blood run cold.

Harry's bed was rocking and shifting upon the hard stones as the man on it convulsed, his face deep in agony as his mouth was open in a silent scream of pain. His back arched off the bed, which rattled again silently, and he thrashed against the blankets and sheets he had already thrown off.

Severus entered the room and was surprised to discover he still couldn't hear Harry. 'Tricky little bugger,' he murmured to himself. Harry had set the silencing charms around his bed, rather then the room, which would have been simpler but anyone stepping over the threshold would have realised they were there. Without a second thought, Severus strode over to the bed and broke through the charm, climbing onto the bed beside Harry and gripping his upper arms firmly, attempting to pin him to the ground and ignore the sudden blood-curdling scream that was erupting from Harry's mouth.

"Phoenix," he murmured soothingly as Harry bucked underneath him. "It's alright, you're dreaming. You're safe in Birch Hall. You're safe."

Harry's eyes flew open, his arms and legs flailing and straining at the grip that kept them in place. His breathing was short, harsh gasps, desperately trying to feed his starved lungs as he broke one hand free of Severus's iron grip to claw at his throat. Severus immediately recaptured the hand and placed it back onto the bed, shifting his body so one leg was on either side of Harry's, effectively restricting that movement as well.

"Shh," he crooned softly. "You're okay, Phoenix. You're at Birch Hall and everything's just fine."

"No! No!" Harry gasped, hips bucking wildly as he scrambled to attack the weight that held him down. Severus grimaced as Harry's forehead smashed into his own.

"Calm yourself," he snapped irritably.

"Don't take him! Don't take him!" Harry wept bitter tears as he cried out pitifully. "Please? I'll be good I promise. I'll do the dishes! I know I know!"

Severus shook Harry roughly, alarmed to find the young man screaming as he did so. He could have kicked himself when he remembered what he had seen in pensieve, and guessed what Harry might be dreaming about.

"Harry," he spoke sternly, using the name the dream-Harry would recognise and respond to. "Harry, you are safe. They can't hurt you, okay? I need you to wake up for me."

"No," Harry wept, trying to break free of his captor's hold. "I won't let you hurt him! Hurt me! Don't hurt him!"

Severus wondered at how young the sobbing man beneath him seemed, how sweetly innocent as he wept tears for another in pain. How had Harry turned from the virtuous teenager he had been into the…monster he had become? Severus could not believe that the man who murdered and left a calling card for fun was the same boy who had been beaten and mocked for a better part of his life, and still never taken it out on another living soul.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Harry bellowed, wrenching from Severus' grasp to throw himself upon the floor, flinching as though he had been struck. "Don't do it again, I'll be good," he whimpered. "Don' hurt him, leave S'v'rus alone. He din't do it, I did it! Honest!" Harry's voice was that of a five-year-old at the same time it dawned on Severus who he was protecting.

"Harry, I'm here. It's Severus. I'm here, I'm safe, you're safe. I need you to come back to me," he whispered, resting a gentle hand on Harry's forehead.

"Safe?" Harry muttered, his head jerking slightly as though he had been threatened as his eyelids began to flicker restlessly.

"Yes, Phoenix," Severus wisely reverted to Harry's preferred name as he noticed his friend coming around. "You're safe and so am I. We're fine, I want you to wake up for me. Can you do that?"

Apparently he could, the eyelids batting a little more before opening to reveal dazed, tearful emerald eyes. Severus glared down at Harry, getting to his feet and pulling the younger man up after him, albeit gently. Scowling, Severus let go and stepped back.

"What're you looking so bloody angry about?" Harry growled groggily, rubbing a hand unconsciously against his arm, which had been injured rather badly in the dream. Severus' look darkened as he watched Harry stumble onto the bed again, sitting down and placing a palm to his eye and pushing in, as though trying to rid himself of the remaining tiredness.

"Please repeat that," Severus snapped. Harry looked startled but his face became stormy. He was not in the mood for games. He opened his mouth, the words that he repeated making no sound. "_That_ is what I am so angry about," sneered Severus haughtily.

Harry waved an impatient hand and the spell fell.

"Better?" he spat, confused, dazed, exhausted and still a little scared. Severus' face darkened further.

"No it is not _better," _he sparred, his voice full of poisonous barbs. "What the _hell_ did you think you were doing you idiotic Gryffindor?"

"I am not a Gryffindor any longer," Harry snarled, eyes narrowed as he stared back at his former professor defiantly. "And I was attempting to allow you some much-needed sleep. I do _not_ require a baby-sitter."

"I can assure you I was offering nothing of the kind," Severus retorted with equal coldness. "However seeing you screaming and writhing on your bed generally does stir people into movement."

"One of the reasons I had a silencing spell up," said Harry, voiced laced with sarcasm.

"The other being you refuse to show your weakness'," sneered Severus, his eyes rolling as he spoke. Harry felt every fibre in his body start sizzling like they were on fire.

"I HAVE NO WEAKNESS'," he bellowed, voice harsh. Severus actually flinched. "_You_ would do well to remember that," he added, breathing heavily as he lowered his voice.

"I believe I just touched on one," Severus pointed out, albeit softly now.

"Believe what you bloody well like."

Harry stood and glared at Severus before storming from the room. He almost ran into Augurey who was waiting anxiously outside the door, shaking off the Demiguise's concern and storming away upstairs to his favourite room. His training room.

It was, of course, the room Severus had come into in his search for Harry, filled with padding and punching bags, as well as a magical version of a treadmill, in a small room in the corner of the training area. When you went inside you simply said what terrain you wanted to run on and the started running, the machine would change the terrain so it inclined up or downwards or dipped slightly to the felt just like you were running outside. Harry loved it, he couldn't exactly get out much any more.

But no treadmill, magic or otherwise, was going to help him get a hand on his anger and so it was to the large muggle punching bag in the middle of the room that he moved first. Angry as he was, Harry was intelligent enough to stretch before he began. No need to add more agony to his nights of tossing and turning.

Harry felt, to his shame and fury, tear beginning to roll down his face as he threw the first punch. Why-punch-did-punch-everything-punch-have-punch-to-punch-be-punch-so-punch-damn-punch-hard? Why couldn't something just work out? Why did he always have to have complications in his life?

Harry twisted in a 'round the house' kick, smashing his leg into the bag and causing it to swing to the side as he regained balance swiftly, this time with his back to the leathered equipment, lashing out backwards with a kick that would finish off any male opponent.

Sometimes, all right, most of the time now, Harry wondered why his emotions were so wild. Okay, he was an adolescent, true enough, but even for himself this was crazy. One moment he would be feeling lulled into serenity by Severus' presence, and the next second he'd want to hex him into oblivion. He needed control, he loathed not having it after so many years of being everyone's pawn. And for some reason, around Severus, he lost it.

With this thought, Harry gave the punching bag a particularly vicious kick, causing it to swing wildly away from him and then rebound on its chain back in his directions. He ducked gracefully to the side and punched its 'face'.

"I-fucking-hate-my-life!" he snarled, punctuating each word with a thump of the bag.

His feelings had not been this strong since his realisation that he had been well and truly betrayed. Since then he had worn his power like a cloak and believed he had moved past the 'I wish I were dead because life is so unfair' stage and moved onto the 'I'll make the best of my situation' stage. But it seemed not.

"Phoenix?" Harry froze mid-strike as that voice drifted over him like velvet. Setting his expression to 'scowl' once more, he continued his exercise. "Phoenix, we need to talk," Severus told him matter-of-factly.

"I do not feel like have civil conversation right now, _Professor_," Harry stressed the word sarcastically. Severus came into the room. He observed the muggle attire with distain before turning his gaze back to Harry.

"I'm afraid I am not giving you a choice," he replied, his voice still careful, aware of the fact that he could no longer intimidate Harry. Harry stopped his movement, catching the bag and stopping it before it thwacked him in the face. He turned to face Severus, something undefinable in his eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't give a fuck whether you believe you are giving me a choice or not," he snarled, his emerald eyes stormy.

"We _need_ to discuss what has been happening, and what has happened since!" Severus insisted, matching Harry's glare with one of his own.

"What's to discuss?" Harry snapped in disgust. "I thought they were my friends', they lied, they betrayed me, they treated me like a toy and then threw me out on my arse. My whole life has been one big hellhole lie and now I have enough power to do what I want, and you want me to _talk_ about it? I think not!"

"Phoenix," Severus sighed. "Discussion is necessary so you may move on…"

"I cannot _move on_, this is me 'moving on'," Harry howled suddenly, his voice breaking as his mood took another mad swing and his bright green eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

Severus was shocked, to say the least. He couldn't understand the farrago of emotions that spieled off the young man, nor the reasons he had for refusing to live his life as it should be lived. He himself was living in a world of utter quandary and fear. He knew what he had seen in the pensieve, and he knew the pensieve would only accept true memories, but he had trusted and respected Dumbledore for so long. And some of the pieces just didn't fit.

"Phoenix," he said softly. "'Moving on' indicates closure, which you clearly do not have while you run rampant throughout the world, attacking the wizarding population."

"That's why I'm attacking muggles as well," Harry replied, with a wicked smile, his tears gone in an instant, replaced by blazing malevolence. Severus felt unsure and vulnerable. He didn't understand how to negotiate with someone who seemed to have more faces then Voldemort ever had.

"And that makes it alright?" he growled. "That is not closure, that's revenge, Phoenix. You need to put it all behind you, move on, maybe find a different place to live if you are unable to live in the same area as them."

"That'd be right, you want me to let them win by driving me out of my home!" Harry snarled moodily. "The first home I've ever really had, and you want me to give it up, for _them_."

"For _you, _Phoenix. For a new start, a new person. You could be inconspicuous, blend in like you always wanted to." Severus stopped, worried as Harry's face seemed to be in two minds and he was battling different emotions.

Hope, hope for the new beginning that Severus was offering, anger and a thirst for revenge for what had been done to him. There was also a determination that almost didn't fit the situation and a kind of deep power reflected in the stormy eyes as Harry finally opened his mouth to speak.

"I used to want that. Who says I still do? Why shouldn't I be recognised for the wizard I truly am? If they created a monster who the hell am I to care? They can face the consequences."

"I don't think that's truly what you believe," Severus said softly. "I think you're scared of your power, and you're using it to get some of it out of you, not to show others that you have it."

"Think what you like," Harry waved the comment away impatiently. "It matters little to me. Now if you'll excuse me I need to…"

"I _know_ that you want to impress Albus," Severus interrupted. "I _know _that you want to show him you can look after yourself, that he doesn't control you any more, but do you really think that he could possibly have done all that to you? Manipulative old coot that he is?"

Harry froze from where he had resumed his punches and stared blankly ahead, his eyes suddenly flashing warning to let Severus know that he had gone too far. And yet, he could not stop himself as he ploughed recklessly on.

"And your friends, do you really think they never cared? Because from what I saw they were incompetent in many areas, and lying was one of them, especially for Weasley. So the affection they showed you could only have been…" Severus trailed off as Harry turned to him, his eyes flaming in fury, upset and…betrayal?

"Of course," he hissed, his voice dangerously soft. "Why didn't I see it? Why would they spare your life? How could Dumbledore have gotten it wrong? They were covering, _you_ were covering so you'd have a back-up, someone I trusted if I did defeat Voldemort. Someone to worm back into my life and mould me back into the person you wanted me to be." He took a step closer, his throat closing slightly. His eyes were narrowed into dark slits now, his whole body trembling as objects around the room began to shiver and tremble on their shelves.

"Get out," he stated plainly, each word pronounced with extreme care. "Get out of my house, _now_!" Severus took a step closer.

"Harry…" he began unthinkingly.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! GO BACK TO THAT MUDBLOOD-LOVING FOOL AND DON'T EVER RETURN. HEAR ME? DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING DARE TO RETURN OR I _WILL_ KILL YOU!"

Severus opened his mouth as though he was going to say something more, but seemed to have been struck speechless. His mouth curled up into a cruel snigger.

"Have it your way, you impertinent Gryffindor," he sneered. "You always asked me to look past your title, your name. And I always tried, but you know what? There's nothing there. All you are, and all you'll ever be, is Harry Potter!"

Severus pre-empted the reaction from his words. Anger, fury, magic, threats and danger. A mad dash for the exit. Unfortunately, once again, he found himself unable to tell what Harry was thinking. Instead of anger, there was pain, a deep, betrayed, weeping pain in those eyes, anguish and darkness seemed to overtake them.

Severus fled. He could not bare to see that agonising defeat, the recognition of desertion flaming in that pale face. So, he ran. Down the stairs, through the front hall, through the woods, to the apperation point. He left, he arrived at Hogwarts ten minutes later. He planned on getting some answers.

That night, thirteen wizards and witches died.

The Dark Phoenix marked their graves.

**A/N: Hello, I'm not dead as you may see. I'm sorry about how long it took me to get this chapter up. A number of school and health issues have prevented me from getting to the computer. I'll try and get the next one up faster! Thank you all so much for sticking by my story.**

**Also, I haven't had time to check the spelling etc on this. I promise I will revise the whole story once its done. :)**


	12. Realisations

**Chapter Twelve: Realisations **

Harry was hunched over in an armchair, _his_ armchair, staring into the fire with tears dripping down his cheeks. His hand was clasped firmly around the neck of a bottle of bourbon. The firelight flickered, lighting up his face in a haunting way as his hair was even more mussed then usual and his clothes, though he usually took pride in his appearance, were scorched and torn from the angry power that jumped so freely around him.

He took a deep swig of alcohol, tipping the bottle up and swallowing fast, but still not fast enough as liquid slid down his cheeks. With a heavy, ragged breath he resumed staring into the blaze, his eyes almost blank, but an occasional flickering of anger and need in them.

'_How could I have been so foolish?' _he snarled silently to himself. '_Did he ever care? Or was the whole thing an act? The training, the encouragement, the constant saving of my arse…the kisses.'_

A second large gulp of liquid burned his throat.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" he demanded of thin air. "Why _me_? Of all the fucking people in the world. WHY ME?"

_Because, it is who you were born to be? Or if that doesn't work for you, you're just really unlucky, _suggested a voice from the door. Harry twisted hurriedly, cracking his neck in his haste.

"Augurey," he stated matter-of-factly.

_Indeed. Have you considered switching to pumpkin juice? Then you may wake up in the morning without taking it out on the poor creatures in the house. _

"I'm not in the mood," Harry snarled, turning his vision back to the fire, as memories ran through his mind like a plague, no matter how hard he tried to wash it away with alcohol.

He remembered the times in Hogwarts when he could run carefree through the corridors with Hermione and Ron. All three of them huddled under the invisibility cloak as they ran about ready for some late-night mischief, all of them able to count upon the other if things got too bad.

That time was over now. Since when had years spent in fear and being hunted beat a few months feeling betrayed and being the hunter in tearing apart his heart and soul?

"How can _this_ be worse then Voldemort?" he asked no one in particular, hand clenching even more fiercely around his bottle's neck. "How can their betrayal make me want to curl up and die, when even Sirius' death was bearable?"

His lips met the cool rim of the bottle once more as he drank down the majority of the remaining liquid. It burned as it ran down his throat and he relished in the pain. It settled in his stomach and he felt a slight queasiness come up into his mouth as the liquor attempted to escape once more, his body rejecting it.

"Fuck them," he whispered. "Fuck them all to hell. I don't fucking need this. I don't fucking need _them_." Harry turned his head to the ceiling, eyes almost blanketed in anguish. "Do you hear me?" he screamed, his voice choked and hoarse. "FUCK YOU ALL!"

Then his arm came up and he flung the bottle of bourbon into the dancing flames. The glass shattered on the bricks and the flame burst into a roaring blaze, fuelled by the alcohol. Harry let out a strangled cry of agony as he fell to his knees in front of the fire, reaching forward to let the flare lick at his hands greedily. He pulled back his burnt hands and buried his face into their palms.

And he wept.

Severus Snape hurried towards the castle he used to think of as home. He surveyed the area in front of him. It was deserted, although if he checked the time, he would have realised that it was due to the fact that it was lunch time. Everyone would be in the Great Hall. Not that he needed a watch to tell him that. He hadn't lived in the school for over twenty years of his life to not pick up on bell times.

He strode straight towards the Great Hall, knowing that one Albus Dumbledore would be sitting at the High Table, blue eyes twinkling knowingly behind his half-moon glasses in a way that meant he knew you were coming before you did.

A characteristic 'Snape' scowl settled on Severus' face as he shoved the doors open with a powerful push and strode into the room, onyx eyes flashing with anger and agony, the likes of which had not been seen in this school since Harry Potter's last entrance.

Silence fell with a clatter of many forks and knives, the students peering at him with a wary fear in their eyes. They had believed they were rid of their snarling potions professor for good, yet here he was for all to see. And in the peak of health! He had escaped from the Dark Phoenix's clutches.

Ever so slowly, no one really knowing where it started, a clap began. It wasn't a standing ovation, not by a long shot, but it certainly wasn't a cold welcome like he would have received before the final battle. However Severus was so angry he doubted he would have noticed if the entire Hogwarts population had jumped to their feet and begun shooting killing curses at him.

"You," he snarled, mounting the stairs to get up onto the platform upon which the High Table rested. He pointed a gnarled finger at Dumbledore who watched him with a slightly surprised but otherwise mild expression. The other teachers, McGonagall especially, appeared to be in a state of shock and did nothing to stop Severus as he stormed towards the headmaster.

"Good-afternoon, Severus," Dumbledore smiled slightly. "How wonderful to see you up and well like this."

"Shut-up, just shut-up you manipulative, evil old man!" Severus growled, angry at himself for his lack of eloquence at a time when eloquence could make all the difference between getting his point across and throwing a tantrum.

"Severus," McGonagall gasped finally, though anything else she was about to say was cut off by a dark glare from the object of her horror.

"I take it Mr Potter is well?" Dumbledore continued, in a kind of balmy tone which Severus knew would drive him around the bend in seconds.

"Do not call him that," he spat, though unsure precisely why he did. It wasn't a dirty thing to say. All he knew was that Harry hated it, it hurt Harry to hear it, and as such, it was Severus' duty to ensure it wasn't used. "And as for how Phoenix is, _okay_ certainly isn't the word I would use to describe his condition, due, in full, to you and your ridiculous masquerade. Tell me one thing, Albus, why would you play with him like that? Why not dispose of him before he had the ability to banish the Dar…" Severus stopped for a moment. Voldemort was no longer the Dark Lord. His face shadowed. No, Harry now had the dubious honour of that title. "To banish Voldemort?"

Dumbledore, Severus was smug to see, looked slightly troubled, the worry lines on his forehead crinkling as he finally stood.

"I believe we shall take leave to my office so we may discuss this, Severus," he spoke quietly. Severus simply sneered and stalked from the Great Hall, leaving shocked mutters in his wake, tuning out Dumbledore's voice as he reassured the students with some more meaningless devious lies.

He strode towards the golden gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office and glaring at it for a few moments, realising that the password would have been changed since the last time he had been here. He couldn't get in. So he just crossed his arms across his chest and glared menacingly at the portraits and other paintings around the area. Many of the occupants looked affronted and turned their backs, but Godric Gryffindor just raised an eyebrow and Salazar Slytherin winked.

Severus felt troubled that the latter was far more likely to mimic Harry's actions then the first.

A few moments later he heard movement down the hall and readied his wand, just in case.

"Canary Creams," Dumbedore spoke with a twinkle as he rounded the corner. Severus didn't even come close to easing into place. Instead he pointed showed the tip of his wand, a warning but not threatening gesture. Dumbledore just glanced at it and raised an eyebrow as if he was amused.

Severus scowled darkened. He would soon wipe the amusement from his ex-employers face. He followed Dumbledore up the stairs and into his office, ignoring the tea and…those bloody lemon drops!

"If you ever offer me one of those muggle atrocities again, I will show you exactly what Phoenix has been studying," he sneered. Dumbledore's face showed a flash of trouble once more. He placed the bowl of lollies to the side of the desk and linked his long fingers together, peering over the top of them at Severus.

"Ah yes, Ha…Phoenix. How is he?" Though it was asked in a mild manner, it was clearly a question that bothered the old man. "Has he been having any…odd behaviour?" Severus glared at Dumbledore.

"No, of course not," he derided. "He bounced right back from the tiny act of you and Voldemort destroying his world and everything he ever loved turning out to be a lie."

Dumbledore sighed and sucked on a lemon drop himself. Severus snickered seeing it. So the old man needed calming did he? Dumbledore's frown deepened.

"I can assure you, everything I did was for his own good," he sighed. "I have no idea what drove Ha…Phoenix to do what he did. I had assumed that once he defeated Voldemort he would…"

"He would what?" Severus spat, interrupting the spiel. "He'd just come back to your side like a good little puppy dog and let you rule his life? That he'd be power hungry enough to take what you offered and never realise how strong he could be? Or were you simply looking for a way to get rid of Voldemort, before you got rid of Phoenix? Perhaps it went wrong, perhaps Voldemort was never supposed to be killed. Perhaps it was Phoenix meant to die out there that day…like he predicted," Severus added, his voice fallen to a hoarse whisper.

It took Severus a moment to process the expression on Dumbledore's face after his speech. He could usually read people very well, part of his spy training, but he had good reason to struggle with this one. He had never, ever, seen Albus Dumbledore look bewildered before.

"But…my dear boy…what are you talking about?" the headmaster asked, looking weary and a little fearful. Severus felt his fury bubbling away and being replaced with weariness as he watching his old professor's erratic emotions.

"Don't, Albus, just…don't. I don't have the energy for your word games. I know what happened. I saw it all, in Phoenix's pensieve. I saw what you lot did to him, to me. I just want to know _why_. I just want to give him a reason, and then I swear, you can go ahead and kill me. I no longer serve a purpose."

Dumbledore rose, his frown of confusion deepening to the point where his whole face appeared to be covered in crinkles.

"Severus, my dear boy, I honestly do not understand what you are saying. What is it that you saw? What have we done to him? I have attempted to steer him back onto the correct path but I fear he has lost his mind. He will not listen to reason. And why on earth would I want you dead?"

"I saw you betray Phoenix and myself. I saw Phoenix's vision from the start of last year come true with startling reality. I saw him crumple and fall. I saw myself being brutally attacked with Avada Kedavra, and, by some miracle, surviving, to be rescued by the Dark Lord himself.

"He nurtured me back to health, inventing his own potion to save my life. He literally put blood, sweat and tears into making it. I learned that he has become what he always feared, a power-hungry Dark wizard. Yet, the power he wields seems to only be spent on revenge, no more.

"After you and your minions made him an outcast he built himself a new life, one without lies or pretences. I can assure you he is perfectly sane of mind, Albus, though I am unsure that you are. As to why you wish me dead, simple, you know me to be loyal to Phoenix, and no other. I may not have many morals, but what you did to him was beyond iniquitous." Severus leaned back as he finished, crossing his arms transversely on his chest.

He was intensely satisfied to see Dumbledore's bewildered look as the old man tried to process the information.

"But Severus I…" Severus wondered what on earth had caused the headmaster to stop, surely he wasn't lost for words?

But no, it wasn't that. Instead, a second later, the room trembled and a low, melancholy wail erupted from Fawkes. Severus shivered, that sound cut right through him, tugging painfully at his heartstrings, though he didn't know why the phoenix cried.

Perhaps it was the way a single silver tear dripped from the creature's eye to land on the ground. Or maybe it was Dumbledore's face of grief which had him so unsettled. Fawkes stopped crying and looked up at them with a small chirp.

Dumbledore sighed and stood, Severus copied the motion as the headmaster walked towards the phoenix tear glittering on the ground. He only then noticed it had expanded until it was about a metre tall and wide. It reminded him of something Harry had once talked about, a television.

"What the hell is going on, Albus?" he demanded, observing the shimmering screen apprehensively.

"Phoenix has just made another attack," Dumbledore replied, his voice ragged and weary.

"How can you tell?" Severus queried, glaring at the swirling tears as they seemed to sort through numerous images to find the one they wanted. Dumbledore sighed.

"Since H…Phoenix's disappearance, Fawkes, feeling some kind of pull to him, has insisted on showing me his lowest moments, in other words, when he attacks someone. I believe that Fawkes is attempting to get me to do something, although there is nothing I can do which I haven't done already."

"Have you talked to him?" Severus demanded, his onyx eyes sharp.

"I have tried discussing the issues at hand with him, yes," Dumbledore nodded sadly.

"But you haven't actually _talked _to him," Severus pressed. "It is as I expected," he added, a significant amount of disgust tinging his words. Before Dumbledore could reply, though, Fawke's let out another mournful cry and the 'screen' settled onto one picture.

Immediately, Dumbledore's brow furrowed and a frown played on his lips. Severus turned to see what the problem was. It was apparent immediately. Harry wasn't attacking anyone. Harry hadn't even left the house.

In fact, Harry wasn't doing anything in particular. He was just sitting on his chair, staring into the fire, a bottle of liquor in his hand. He sipped at it occasionally, his deep emerald eyes swirling with emotion like a whirlpool. He was wallowing in self-pity. Even Severus had to admit, after all he'd been through, he had a right to.

The Demiguise entered the room, concern obvious, but with a few sharp words, Harry had sent him on his way again. Finally, more ragged words fell from the young man's tight lips.

"How can _this_ be worse then Voldemort? How can their betrayal make me want to curl up and die, when even Sirius' death was bearable?"

Severus felt his own heart twist and clench in anguish for Harry's plight as he watched the scene play out. He felt like his whole world was being torn apart just from seeing the grief that Harry felt. Seeing how deep it ran.

Harry drank more of the alcohol, bourbon, Severus decided, his lips pressed in a tight like as he watched the younger wizard look like he was going to throw up but resisted the attempt. Severus was, once more, shocked, as Harry swore more and more often, and more profusely.

"Fuck them." It started as a bare whisper.. "Fuck them all to hell. I don't fucking need this. I don't fucking need _them_. Do you hear me?" His voice rising to an anguished, broken scream. "FUCK YOU ALL!"

The bottle of alcohol burst amongst the flames and Severus turned away, unable to stand anymore, but the sound of Harry's wretched sobs followed him, taunting him, no matter where he turned.

"Do you see now, what you have done to him?" he demanded softly of Dumbledore who watched the scene to completion. The headmaster turned back to him as the 'screen' of tears collapsed once more into a puddle, which soon vanished. Fawkes let out another mournful cry and burst into flames, re-born a minute after.

"He insists on burning after every viewing. He hasn't reached his full potential in months," he mused sitting back in his chair. Severus felt a ball of rage well up inside of him but forced it back down once more. Yelling wouldn't get a reaction from the old man.

"And yet, Harry has reached his, well and truly. Isn't that a terrifying thought?" he asked quietly, and with that parting thought, he turned and swept from the room, his robes swishing magnificently behind him.

Dumbledore sighed and rested his head in his hands, jerking up again at a shriek.

Fawkes began to cry.

Harry walked towards the towering door, his eyes glassy, his hair a mess and robes…scarlet. He was half in a daze as he moved, his steps jerky, his wand already clutched in his hand and pointed outright at the building he approached. His head pounded, his hangover potion not yet kicking in, as he moved in for the kill.

"I can do anything I wanna do," he repeated to himself under his breath, his voice hoarse. "Anything I wanna do!"

He waved his wand, the door burst open with enough force to shatter it against the far wall. He heard the screams that echoed from upstairs as he entered, radiating power even in the state he was in. He followed the screams. He was in no mood for theatrics. This would be swift, sudden, and deadly.

The stairs were wrought black iron, he was interested to note, unusual in such a normal looking muggle house. He shivered. 'Normal' was a word he despised above all others. He, Harry Potter, the Dark Phoenix, could never be normal. The Dursley's loved everything normal.

His mouth curled into a cruel smile. The Dursley's, now suitably terrified from a warning he had delivered to them via magic two months previously, had moved eight times since then, and would be discovering very soon that no one could hide from the Dark Phoenix, muggle or magical.

Even as he walked, making no movement of his wand, uttering no sound, pictures smashed, light bulbs burst and carpet caught on fire. Bright green fire which licked at Harry's robes and skin, playing gently on him but never scalding him. Not him. The roses on the brightly coloured wallpaper wilted until they were dead, drooping and black.

They would scream for mercy before he was finished with them. His mouth twisted once more at the memory of many more screams. Screams and pain and death. All of which he had control. He decided who lived and died. It was no longer a matter of who he would next lose, but who he would next choose.

He reached the top of the stairs, he could hear the screaming more clearly now. It came from a room across the hallway and three doors to his left. Before he even reached the target destination, the door was off its hinges and burnt to cinders. The screaming, no longer hidden behind said obstruction, grew louder.

Harry faced down the woman as he stepped into the doorway, looking more terrifying then ever before. He had lost his calm, he was running on impulses, not plans. That alone could make the most horrifying Dark Wizard ever to walk the earth. Even Voldemort used plans.

The woman wept, her tears rolling down her chin to land on the floor where her husband already lay, clutching his heart, gasping for breath and staring at Harry with wide-eyed horror.

Harry snorted.

How boring.

Half his job done.

He raised his wand, ready to finish off the weakest of the couple. For once, not the woman, when a noise forced him to pause.

Cracks, two of them, three? Four? Out on the landing?

Harry swirled. The muggles were no danger to him, he would face down the wizards who were stupid enough to intervene with his plans first, then he would deal with the worthless ones.

Sure enough, only moments later, the doorway was darkened by two figures. They shifted slightly at the urging of familiar voices to allow two others to step into the room. Harry let out a little snarl in the back of his throat, his emerald eyes flashed with danger not yet foreseen.

One of the group moved swiftly towards the muggles. It was to be expected. Hermione always was the meddlesome one.

"Mum? Dad? What's wrong with him?" she whimpered, her shrill voice rising even a notch higher.

"Surely a know-it-all such as you is not completely ignorant of muggle medical problems?" Harry asked, without turning away from the other three figures, his voice laced with derision. "He's having a heart attack."

Hermione stifled another sob and began to wave her wand about frantically. Within a second her boyfriend was by her side, soothing her and her mother while attempting to do a less-shoddy job of the medical spell she was attempting in her grief.

He smirked again, as pain and anguish enveloped his former friends. It was about time they felt some of what he felt every day of his life. He breathing became faster and caught in his throat as he fought hysterical laughter. Then it was too much and harsh, barking chuckles fell from his lips and his dulled emerald eyes danced with humourless mirth.

"Harry!" the voice that spoke to him, snapped _at_ him held so much horror that he almost faltered. After all, the years of trust and moving at that man's every word were still hard to brush to the side. Then his eyes clashed with the deep azure and his smile returned.

"What seems to be the problem, Dumbledore?" he asked lazily, aware of a slight slur to his voice. He couldn't be bothered getting angry at the use of his real name. "I didn't touch them. Completely natural, and might I say, miraculous, occurrence."

"You beast!" Hermione was screaming at him, Harry's grin broadened. Music to his ears.

"I am rather, aren't I?" For a moment it seemed that no one knew what to say. No one knew how to react to a seemly untouchable, heartless, dark wizard. It had always been so much simpler with Voldemort. He had no reasons behind his killings. Harry had pain. Harry had betrayal. Harry had revenge.

"Phoenix…" Harry froze, every fibre of his body screamed at him to attack, to _Crucio_ the bastard before he could speak another word of betrayal, of pain. "You don't want to do this. You are intoxicated and functioning without proper thought." Severus' velvet voice cut through his like a knife and he couldn't prevent the whimper that escaped his lips.

"I want to do this," he retorted, staring at the space just a little to the left of the bastard. "I've wanted to do this since the day I killed Voldemort. I was going to do it the day you awoke. The day I saved your life!" he added, spitting out the last words as though all he wished to do was to reverse time and kill Severus himself. "But I am, of course, more then happy to see him suffer and die of natural causes."

A twisted gleam entered his eyes as they observed the man on the floor, clutching a hand over his heart but obviously feeling a bit better due to Hermione and Ron's ministrations. Harry clucked his tongue in a reprimanding manner.

"Now, now, this won't do at all will it?" A wave of his hand and Ron and Hermione were pinned against the far wall. Dumbledore raised a hand and muttered a spell and Ron and Hermione…stayed stuck.

"Amazing what a bit of power can do," Harry sneered.

"Phoenix, I understand that you're hurting. But you need to calm down and listen for a moment. What's been happening isn't what you think," Severus said urgently, taking a step forward. Harry had the strangest urge to step back again, but refused to be cowed by his former professor and, sort-of-friend.

"Really? Are you suggesting that I watched my entire world be shattered and it was nothing more then the delusional imagination of a famous ignorant boy, searching for more to add to his tragic biography?" he glared, his voice mocking. Severus visibly winced. It sounded very much like something he would have said.

He sighed heavily and stepped back once more, deciding confrontation wouldn't get him anywhere with the angry young man.

"H…Phoenix. This is doing no one any good, yourself included," Dumbledore jumped in, his voice coming very close to pleading. Very close, but not quite.

"Au contraire," Harry smirked. "This is doing me the world of good." He could still hear Hermione's quiet sobbing in the background, her mother's uneven whispers, and her father's rasping breathing. Ron's silent presence did not escape anyone's attentions either.

"Really?" Severus had moved back into the conversation, his voice low and soft. "You believe that murdering all of those people, _truly _have deaths on your conscience is doing you good? When the mere thought that you _could_ be responsible for Mr Diggory or Black's deaths sent you into a tail-spin of depression?"

Harry's eyes flared with unreadable emotions.

"Those deaths were _not_ my fault," he growled through gritted teeth.

"No," Severus agreed. "But this will be. If you raise your wand. If you utter the words that killed your own _parents_!" He paused to stress the word. He was getting through, he could see that. Dumbledore, unfortunately, chose to step in.

"Phoenix, what has happened, what you believe has happened, has _not_! Come back to the side of Light with us, we can protect you and help you!" Dumbledore stressed his point and moved forward a few paces. Harry felt his fury well up inside of him.

"You reckon none of you betrayed or manipulated me, Dumbledore. But when I went through the worst time of my life who was standing by me? Coz I sure as hell didn't see you there. That vision might as well have been true, for in the end it all amounted to the same thing."

Outside thunder rolled, lightening flashed, a tree was incinerated. The dark clouds spouted torrents of water. A slight flicker of fear went through Hermione, Dumbledore and Ron's faces. It took a very powerful wizard, a seriously pissed off very powerful wizard, to cause such a reaction in the weather.

"Cease that immediately!" Harry swirled from where he had been staring out of the window with a kind of affectionate madness in his face to glare at Severus.

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO ANYMORE! YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME!" he screamed, the alcohol clouding his brain once more. "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT WAS LIKE! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

"I don't understand what, Phoenix. I don't understand what it's like to be betrayed by people I believed cared about me? I became a Death Eater under false pretences, my supposed friends turned on me like savage dogs within seconds of me turning back to the Light side. I don't understand what it's like to kill? I have taken active roles in the torture of innocent muggles, burning them, cursing them, killing them. I don't understand what it's like to put my life on the line for other people? I spent over ten years as a spy for the Light side, and all I got in return was hatred from them. Hatred, and spite. What don't I understand?"

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME!" Harry screamed, his voice wavering as he took a step back, his eyes wild and fearful. "NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME!"

"Let us understand then, talk to us," Severus insisted coming closer, slowly backing Harry up until he was pressed against a wall. The man looked wild-eyed and…scared? It was possible, he supposed. Suddenly, Hermione and Ron fell to the ground with a dull thud and a groan, Harry had lost control of his magic.

His whole body was being wracked with tremors and he seemed to have glazed over, not registering anything in the room. The wild weather got worse and he twitched heavily, the whole left side of his body shifting, as though struck by electricity.

"Phoenix?" Severus demanded suddenly, breaking the silence as Harry started to slide down the wall, until he was sitting on the ground with his knees up to his chin, his face green as though he was about to throw up and at the same time, somehow pale.

"I don't want…I don't…I won't…I don…" Harry muttered, his voice and breath hitching at the same time. He gasped heavily, his eyes wide as he stared at Severus. "You betrayed me. You are a traitor. I don't want you near me!" His former Professor actually looked slightly hurt but Harry ignored it, instead focussing on attempting to keep his gasping breaths drawing in real oxygen, his head spinning.

"Harry?" The name slipped from Severus' lips before he could stop it. A hand reached out to clutch at his robes. For a moment, he believed Harry was attacking him, then realised he was reaching for something to hold him onto this reality. He was fighting off a vision? That wasn't possible.

"The rain will rise, the pain will fall, the agony will envelope us, and shroud us all!" Harry's voice was hoarse, ragged and not his own. His eyes had turned rapidly to grey and back to green, his trembling wouldn't subside, he was convulsing rapidly now, his eyes scared and young.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"He sounds like he's making a prophecy or a prediction…" Hermione whispered from where she now cradled her father's unconscious body, Dumbledore having subsided the heart attack. Harry's eyes snapped into alertness and his breathing hastened, rather then slowed.

"What's happening? What happened?" Dumbledore demanded, stepping forward. "What's the matter, Phoenix?" Harry's eyes rolled up in his head and he suddenly slumped to the side on the wall. Severus only reacted in time to clutch his shoulders and hold him upright. It was testament to Harry's sudden illness that he didn't shrug away and only flinched a little.

"Stay with us, H-Phoenix," he commanded softly. Harry whimpered softly. He felt sick, his scar was burning from his anxiety. There was someone holding him, he wanted to be held, to feel safe. But since when had being close to people meant he was safe? He tried to push away but discovered the hands grasping him were significantly stronger then himself.

"Don't…I don't…traitor!" he gasped out, eyes sliding even further out of focus. With what little strength remained from his sudden, unexplainable draining, Harry apparated from the hands holding him, and home.

Harry woke up with someone's yelling meeting his ears. His head ached and he had the vaguest sensation that he had just done something he was about to regret, like a one-night stand or something. He grimaced and sat up, glancing around him to discover he was propped up against a wall in his Entrance Hall. How on earth had he gotten here? He remembered going to the Granger's house, and then…not a whole lot.

He frowned; there had been people there. Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore and…SNAPE! Harry growled in the back of his throat. He knew what he must regret now. He hadn't finished the job! Damnit! He scrambled to get to his feet as the yelling got louder.

_Stay there little one, we shall take care of this. _Harry started and glanced down at his feet. Tranwth, the cobra, was curled at his feet. He smiled hazily and glanced around the room, suddenly recalling the last moments of his time at the Granger's and the voice clicked and became familiar.

"Snape's here isn't he?" Harry's voice was cold, despite how ill he still felt. Tranwth hissed in agreement.

_He came unwanted with you home. We are having him removed. _

'_Good.' _Harry replied, even as a figure with billowing robes managed to burst through the front doors, despite the efforts of what seemed to be half the forest animals, to stop him. His onyx eyes connected with Harry's.

"There's a mob, Phoenix!" he gasped out. Harry sneered in his direction. "They heard what you tried at the Granger's. You must evacuate or strengthen your wards!"

His wards? Well they were at the strength they'd always been weren't they? Harry frowned and searched with his magic, to discover that he had never actually put any wards up to keep people out per say. They couldn't apparate in, and there were lots of deterrents, but nothing specifically to stop them. He'd been having sadistic thoughts at the time about what he would do if anyone got in.

He shivered suddenly, feeling as though a part of him had been ripped out, and a sudden cold wind blew through the room. A feeling of bile rose in his throat and sickness washed over him.

_Ron and he were trapped, a plant grabbed at them, tore at them, didn't want to let them go. He was suffocating. What on earth was he going to do? How stupid could he have been, jumping down a trapdoor without the slightest clue as to where he was going to end up? At least Hermione got out alive. She could tell their tale. _

"_I know what this is…It's Devil's Snare!" _

"_I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help!" Ron snarled from where he himself was struggling with the great plant, as one great tentacle wrapped itself around his throat. _

"_Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare," Hermione muttered to herself, clearly thinking out loud. "It likes the dark and the damp…"_

"_So light a fire," Harry gasped out. _

"_But there's no wood.." Hermione was honestly having this conundrum as her two best friends' choked to death. _

"_HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?" _

"_Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the two boys felt it loosening and they struggled their way out…_

Harry shut his eyes in a vain attempt to push away the memory, knowing what it was doing to him, what feelings it was forcing to the surface. 'That was the past,' he snarled venomously to himself. 'They changed.' 'Or was it you who changed?' demanded the small voice in his mind who always told him what he didn't want to hear.

"It was them," he snarled to himself, slowly pushing himself up on the wall. More out of habit, then honest disbelief, he demanded of Severus,

"And tell me, is there a reason I should trust you?" Of course, there were many. Severus had taken care of him when he had needed it most. He had tried to save Remus. He had taught Harry so many things he needed to know, and used to survive. He had been a key in bringing down Voldemort. Of course, in the long run, none of that meant anything now Severus had turned traitor.

"Because…" Severus hesitated, and turned his head, listening. "Look they're almost here! You can trust me, and I don't know what you expect to happen if you do and I'm lying, but if you don't and they DO come, then what?" Harry just sighed. He was so tired, he was magically sapped, and his emotions felt like they'd been pushed through a spaghetti machine then stomped on by the whomping willow.

"Let them come," he muttered, sliding back down the wall and resting his head on his hand, propped up on his elbow, on his knee. Severus looked on in a bemused kind of wonderment, and was immediately attacked by the animals of the forest again, each doing its part to fight him away from their friend.

Tranwth was looking cautious between Harry and Severus as Augurey separated from the mob of animals and loped over, face concerned.

What if he's speaking true little snake? 

Phoenix, I think he may be right, there are reports from the animals on the edge of the forest, a group of wizards and witches. They will take them on, upon your command, but it is large.

Harry's eyes connected with Severus', who was still fighting off animals with stunning curses and confounding charms. He had yet to harm a single one, despite being seriously wounded himself. Blood trickled down his face and chin, but his eyes never left Harry as he tried desperately to get to his charge. Or the twisted man who used to be his charge.

_Leave him, _Harry commanded. His voice soft, weary and bewildered. The animals let up slowly, confused, but always ready to assist how Harry wished. Severus was still looking slightly dazed, but wasted no time in pushing through the herd to Harry, looking the man up and down, and grabbing his wrist without another word.

Tranwth hissed but Augurey warned the other animals to stand down, he knew this strange man had looked after Harry before he had become…whatever it was he was now.

_Have the others hold the humans back. Do not attack, just get in the way. If they start harming any of us, have them leave immediately. No one is playing hero here, _Augurey instructed Tranwth before heading off as fast as he could to catch Severus' attention, the man now dragging Harry forcefully upstairs, though to where he didn't yet know. All he knew was that he had to take Harry out of harm's way.

Augurey tugged on Severus' sleeve when it became apparent that a despondent Harry would not act as a translator between the two. Severus sighed as he looked at the ape-like creature.

"At a time like this I am putting all of my hope and trust in a beast." Augurey gave an odd sort of grin and loped off at a quick pace, Severus following, half carrying Harry who, while not resisting, was refusing to help as well. They walked and walked down so many corridors Severus began to feel dizzy, although admittedly that could have been from blood loss.

They finally came to a halt in front of a portrait of a wizened old man sitting on a rock, staring across the flowing river water with a gaze of deep agony on his face. The tree that stood behind and above him rustled gently in the breeze, as did the two small, carefully made crosses near his feet. He looked at them sadly as Augurey arrived, and turned his head away.

Augury tugged Severus' arm as if to indicate that he should say something. He frowned down at the Demiguise, he had no idea what the password was, for he now assumed that behind this portrait they were going to find a safe-room of some kind.

"Er…hello," he said finally. The man simply stared back despondently, blinking unseeingly. "Do you guard a room of some kind?" he pressed after a moment of no response. The man shifted and his eyes returned to the bubbling water.

"I guard…something," he muttered dreamily. Severus frowned, irritated with the daft portrait.

"Let us in," he commanded, grasping Harry with two hands when the man attempted to slide down onto the floor, his eyes fluttering. Severus could feel his own blood still dripping down his face.

"Password?" the man retorted, his eyes dancing darkly with the knowledge that they wouldn't be able to come up with one. Severus growled and dragged Harry up, throwing the young man's arm around his shoulders to support him.

"Harry, tell the man the password before you get us both killed," he snapped.

"Not…Harry," muttered his charge weakly, "don't disturb…Cason." Snape raised an eyebrow, frustration beating in his chest. Who the hell was Cason?

"He is The Dark Phoenix?" the painting observed, with the first signs of caring.

"What of it?" Severus demanded hotly. "He won't be for much longer if you don't let us in." The painting looked Harry over once more and nodded, muttering softly,

"He is much changed since he came to talk with me last. Enter." Severus was so surprised at the portrait's acquiescence that he was almost struck by the swinging open of the door hidden behind it, rather then the usual portrait hole. Blinking and glaring at the door, he stepped through, half carrying Harry now, who appeared to be floating between conscious and unconscious.

Augurey strolled in beside him and tapped the wall three times in what appeared to be an exact place before looking moodily about himself and pointing at the wall, then at Snape. Severus felt something catch in his throat as Harry moaned softly, realising with a start that the thumping he could hear downstairs meant the mob was through the forest, and starting on the doors.

Desperately, Augurey grasped Severus' hand, pointed to Harry and placed a the hand over Harry's heart. Severus wrenched his hand back, shooting the creature a withering glare, startled and unhappy about the apparent perceptiveness of the young Demiguise.

"What?" he snarled. "You want some sentimental garbage about love and protection?" Even as he spoke, the walls split in much the same fashion as those in Diagon Alley, leaving a hole just large enough for a medium-sized human to fit through. Good thing Hagrid didn't need to hide with them, was Severus' first hysterical thought. He scrambled through with difficulty, trying to avoid striking Harry's head, but hit his own instead. Snarkily, he wondered why he was bothering trying to protect the insane Dark Lord…again. Especially when Harry appeared to be doing his best to resist him. He paused from his dragging when Augury chirped oddly. He looked up to find another door.

"This is the most impractical, ridiculous…" he trailed off as Augury simply grasped the handle and pulled. With a lot of jarring and moaning, the door opened to admit them, the heavy oak spluttering up dusty from years of disuse. Severus turned up his nose delicately, forcibly dragging Harry through and into a dimly lit room beyond. It smelt like musky male odours, the higher scents of lingering perfume, and a distinct twinge of fear hung in the air.

_I shall go and see to the defences, _Augury stated softly, despite the fact that his master didn't hear and probably didn't care and Severus could not understand. He turned and loped quietly from the room, shutting and sealing the door behind him. There was the distinct sound of many locks clicking together securely, and Severus frowned, having thought the door had been unlocked as they attempted to come through. A few muttered charms later, and Severus felt safe enough to let Harry go.

The younger man stumbled forward, as though intoxicated, and fell heavily to his knees upon the cobblestones, the thud seemed unduly loud in this enclosed space. The knobbly bones from Harry's legs met the cold, unyielding floor, and his head bowed. Severus winced and shuffled forward carefully in the darkness until he reached his former charge, where he knelt down. Squinting, he tried to take in Harry's face in the gloom.

"Damnit, _lumos," _he growled, agitated. The light immediately bloomed brightly, and he squinted again, this time against the light attempting to invade his pupils. Harry's eyes were hollow and he was staring blankly at his hands as though they were some kind of foreign objects, twisting them this way and that. "Potter, are you injured?" he demanded, slipping back into hold habits with the name.

Harry shook his head mutely, but looked immediately more alert, his gaze falling upon Snape's bleeding face.

"You're…hurt…" he murmured softly, reaching out a hand to touch the wound, then dropping it to his side uselessly before he made contact.

"Never mind that," Severus brushed it off in annoyance, glancing around the room to see if there was anywhere to sit. To his surprise, it was quite spacious, if ill kept. Dust lay thickly over everything, but everything included most anything they would want if they were trapped here for a long period of time.

A couch and one cushy armchair sat by a doused fire, a fridge of some kind obviously held the food. Snape could only assume it was magically spelled to stay cool, electricity was out of the question. A few bookshelves were crammed tight with scrolls and books, as well as a few things that looked suspiciously like muggle board-games and cards.

Leaning down, Snape grabbed Harry under the arms and dragged him to his feet. This time, at least, he had the decency to stand under his own power, even if he was swaying wildly. With more force then strictly necessary, Snape dragged Harry over to the couch and dumped him on it, quickly strolling over to the sink to dig out some muggle tissues and wet them with the running water. The room did seem to really have everything! Quickly cleaning his cut, he drank a blood-replenishing potion he had in his belt of emergency-potions, and turned back to Harry who was watching him with his head in his hands, eyes desolate.

Unprepared for it, Snape flinched when Harry's voice broke the silence.

"Why do you keep protecting me?" He whirled, eyes ablaze. Of all the stupid questions! Of all the stupid, pig-headed, Gryffindor-minded… "I don't even know why, or when this spiralled out of control, but look at me. Why are you protecting me…protecting this?" Harry waved a hand wearily towards himself. As his green eyes dropped to the ground, Snape felt something deep inside of him snap.

Covering the stones between himself and Harry in four large strides, he grabbed the younger man's cheeks fiercely, eyes a snarly, blazing mass of confused passion, and swooped, capturing Harry's lips with his own. He forced Harry's head back with one hand grasping his hair, to grind down harder until he tasted blood.

Harry's heart was beating at a hundred miles per hour, Snape could feel it as their bodies crushed together. The younger man's arms wrapped around Snape's slender figure and pulled him closer, until Snape was almost straddling him. Harry was giddy and felt his mind pulling him in two as anger and love were coursing through Snape as he possessed Harry with that one kiss.

"Is that enough of a reason, you idiotic man?" Snape growled, pulling away, chest heaving, before stalking away to throw himself into the armchair and waving the fire into a blaze broodingly.

Harry was left, sitting on the couch, a bemused expression settling across his face as Snape threw himself into the armchair and glared into the fire, his lips little more then a tight line. The silence grew heavy, weighing down on both of them thick enough to choke. The room didn't creak, they could hear nothing of the ruckus going on outside. There was just their heavy breathing and the harsh crackling of the blaze in the fireplace.

"Uh…" Harry opened his mouth, trying to form some sort of sentence, but found nothing forthcoming and closed it again. The fire seemed deafening and Harry focussed on it rather then think about what had just happened. It seemed so strange and surreal. The timing, the place... The person. Shoving it forcefully from his mind, Harry wondered if Augury was all right. As though reading his mind, the sole portrait of the room spoke up.

"The animals had to back back, lad," Harry's head shot up to see the man from the portrait outside standing in his portrait in the room. He nodded sighing. "Reckon they'll be here in ten minutes, maybe more or less depending on how many of the braggarts there are."

"Thank-you, Cason." Harry nodded. The man observed him in silence before saying in a rather fierce, solemn voice,

"I won't let them past."

"I know." 

"I won't," Cason repeated himself firmly, before disappearing once more.

The silence fell over the room once more, and Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably, eyes fixed on the dancing flames as though they were all he had on his mind. Finally, Snape's voice broke the silence.

"Who is that portrait?"

"Hmm?" Harry looked up absently. "Oh, Cason De Vardich. He owned this mansion about five hundred years ago."

"Why was he so insistent about guarding this room?" Snape pressed further. Harry closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"His wife was slaughtered in here." Getting to his feet, the boy-who'd-had-enough-of-living walked towards the fire and leaned against the warm bricks. "When he was alive his Uncle brought an army to take over the castle, and kill Cason, his wife, and two children. Cason shoved his family in here, and stood outside the portrait to fight. The room has unbreakable anti-apparition wards and all that junk on it." Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes tiredly. "He was killed that day. The portrait guarding the room was coerced into opening up. His wife and children were all…raped…and killed." Harry felt a twisting, overwhelming sense of guilt and vindictive pleasure wash over him and he turned away from the fire as though someone had stabbed him in the gut.

"Won't trust portraits to guard it anymore. No others anyway," Harry muttered, falling back into the chair and resting his face on his arm. "He said he'd guard it for me if I was ever in strife. Guess he meant it."

"What they did upset you?" Snape's voice was neutral but Harry could sense some urgency underlying it. He swallowed heavily.

"Of course," he muttered into his arm. "It was sick."

"Why?"

"Because…raping…anyone…"

"Is that the only reason?" Harry's head shot up and he glared at Snape.

"What the hell do you _want_ me to say? That it sickens me that they would kill people at all? Huh? That I am suddenly repent for all my sins? It was a completely different situation!"

"How?" Snape barked, his temper fraying.

"BECAUSE THE PEOPLE I KILLED DESERVE IT!" Harry screamed. "Filthy, disgusting, bastard, muggles! Mudbloods! Daring to speak my name!" Snape blanched and stared at Harry with his mouth half open. It couldn't be possible? His mind was whirling, putting little facts together, little bits and pieces that hadn't made sense. Little comments…

"Oh sweet Merlin…" His horror at processing the information was mixed with a sudden understanding about Harry and how he had become what he had.

"What?" Harry sneered. "Got a different opinion, Snape?" Harry had seemed calm enough moments before…what had changed? Puzzled, Snape climbed to his feet and walked towards the Gryffindor, wondering for a second about where Harry would end up if he were to be sorted now. Slytherin, no doubt.

"What about?" he asked, drawing back his voice to a carefully schooled calm once more.

"What do you think? You've lowered your standards recently, Snape."

"I've not been spending time around anyone I haven't always. I've even been staying away from a few people," Snape retaliated, moving slowly towards Harry's chair, trying not to startle the obviously fragile other man.

"But you tried to help the mudblood didn't you?" it was a rhetorical question.

"What would you have had me do? Dumbledore was right there!" Snape was standing beside Harry's chair now and loomed over him menacingly. Harry didn't look particularly fazed.

"That is no excuse. _I_ am the most powerful wizard. I can protect only those loyal to me, Snape." Harry's eyes narrowed and Snape felt a shiver run down his spine. How had he not seen it before? He had to test the theory first, just once, before Harry could run away.

He fell gracefully to one knee beside the chair and bowed his head.

"Of course, my lord." Harry let out a wheezing high pitched laugh and reached out to run a hand through Snape's hair.

"That's better." All Snape had to do now was to get Harry to grasp onto reality. What was it about what he had done before that had brought Harry down to earth? He had seemed a lot more like "Potter" and a hell of a lot less like "Phoenix."

Cautiously, his left hand secured around his wand, Snape reached up to gently touch Harry's hand. The other man stiffened and looked down at the long fingers touching his in surprise. He made no move to shake them up but met onyx eyes with startled green ones.

Severus pretended he could see nothing happening and continued his ministrations as he began to talk softly.

"Why else did it bother you?" He didn't try and specify. It was unnecessary.

"They ganged up…" Harry seemed to be calmer, more bewildered. "Like Dudley used to with me. Its different for me…it was just me against them." Feeling more confident, Severus moved a bit closer, so his elbow could rest on Harry's knees.

"W…what are you doing?" Harry looked down at him, his brow furrowed and confusion rampant in his eyes. He looked more human then he had for some time.

"Just talking," Severus replied quietly. Harry's eyes darted to the hand resting on his own, and the elbow digging into his knee.

"You going to kiss me again?" he asked warily.

"Do you want me to?" Severus asked. Harry seemed to ponder it for a minute.

"You betrayed me," he whispered. "But it made me feel…grounded again." Snape took that as a yes and moved forward, gently taking Harry's face in his hands and pressing his rough lips against Harry's soft ones. For a moment everything seemed to freeze.

Severus could hear a clock ticking, and the fire crackling, but his heart had stopped. His body was still, he didn't breath, not wanting to ruin his one chance at trying to get "Harry" back. Then suddenly, Harry's mouth opened wide, his head jerked back, and his bone-chilling scream echoed throughout the room.

Harry doubled over and moaned as Snape stepped away, his eyes searching agonizingly for a source of his pain.

"Surely it wasn't that bad, Potter," he commented snidely, watching carefully for any confirmation that it worked.

"Sev…help…" Harry's voice was hoarse and choked. _That _caught Snape's attention and he watched intensely as Harry all but fell out of his chair before his ex-professor stepped up to help him.

"Drink this," Snape instructed, pulling a potion from his cloak. An all-purpose pain reliever. He wasn't sure if it would work in this situation, but he could hope. It was a testament to Harry's delirium that he didn't question the liquid, and instead swallowed it down in two big gulps, grimacing at the taste. Slowly, agonisingly, the pain seemed to recede and Harry sat up straighter, wheezing slightly. His eyes looked unsettled as he peered around the room and slowly moved his hand in front of his face in a way spookily reminiscent of Voldemort's examination of his new body … was it only three years ago?

"Severus…I don't feel…right," Harry whispered, staring in horror at his hand. "Nothing feels right. I'm out of control." Still watching the other man's every move, Severus moved forward slowly and knelt down again, cautious in case it was a trap.

"How long have you felt like this?" he asked softly. Everything was riding on how he handled this situation.

"Since…the…" Harry frowned, his eyebrows knitted as he gasped chokily as though fighting with himself, as one under Veritaserum would. "Final Battle." He settled on finally. "And…less so…since the vision." The vision? Severus' mind growled. He had had a million of them! Half of which, Severus had probably not even heard about. "Betrayal," Harry gasped out finally, and comprehension washed over the potions master.

"This has been going on for over a year?" he demanded sharply. Harry nodded tiredly, simultaneously looking frightened and panicked. Snape schooled himself to calm again and reached out carefully to take Harry's hand again, noticing that Harry seemed to settle as he did so.

"Yeah…only got really bad after the events came to pass though," he whispered, yawning and apparently realising that his exhaustion had not faded in his journey to this room and the fight that ensued. Harry felt strangely like he could go to sleep and get a real rest for the first time in a long, long time. His eyes shuttered closed then were forced back open. They met Snape's intense gaze. "Stay?"

Harry's mind couldn't comprehend complex thoughts of betrayal and pain at that moment, all he could focus on was that when Snape was near, he felt better, and that was all that mattered. Catching the potion master's nod, Harry allowed his eyes to close again, and he fell asleep.


	13. A Visit or Two

**Chapter Thirteen: A visit or two**

_The green light flashed from Harry's wand and he watched a young mother die as she wept for her child already lost. He laughed mirthlessly and another burst of green light took down the child's father in the same rapid moment, almost before he had time to comprehend that his wife's unmoving body would never move again. _

_Harry felt a sick twisting in his stomach as their lifeless bodies slumped together, even as a child stirred. _

_STOP IT! STOP IT! he was screaming in his own head, but the irrational side of him had too firm a grip now. His wand seemed to be bursting out green like a waterfall again and again, and Harry couldn't stop the flow. Suddenly he hurt as each person fell. _

_Screaming, screaming, screaming, wrenched from his mouth like the air he breathed. It was complete agony, there was no feeling like it, not even Crucio measured up. He couldn't breath for screaming now, doubled over, clutching his stomach and still casting that horrific, deadly, unforgivable spell. _

_Suddenly the pain seemed to recede, like a wave reaching high tide and backing back slowly to the shores again. Harry cautiously stood up and searched for the reason he had suddenly stopped killing and hurting. A long, pale fingered hand rested on his shoulder, and Harry's gaze travelled from it, up a black cloaked arm and fell upon Severus Snape's face. _

Harry jerked away with a start, breathing heavily and feeling something odd about his surroundings, like something had followed him from his dream. He realised, his breath catching in his throat, that Severus's hand really was resting gently upon his shoulder as he stared up blearily, still feeling sapped.

"Alright, Potter?" Snape sneered. Somehow it didn't matter, as long as the hand didn't move, Snape could say whatever he wanted. Even _that _name. Harry nodded mutely and turned his head to rest it on the potions master's hand as said man sat on the edge of the chair. He was watching Harry with something akin to a hungry look.

"You keep saving me," Harry yawned, exhaustion taking over now his fear had abated. "I just don't…" and he was asleep once more. Severus frowned, his eyebrows crinkling down as he observed Harry, his free hand moving to stroke back some renegade hair trying to make a break for it.

"Neither do I, Harry."

Harry awoke more slowly the second time around, his head was sore and he still felt weak from his magical draining but a certain calmness and safety surrounded him. Severus was asleep on the couch's arm, half slipped in beside Harry, still grasping his shoulder gently, his face taunt and tense even in sleep.

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he tried not to move so he wouldn't wake the other man (not that he gave a damn). Snape's warm body leaning so awkwardly on Harry's gave the sense that Harry was holding the older man up. This caused a frown to cross Harry's lips as he recalled the day he had done just that. It seemed so long ago, stumbling across Hogwarts' lawn and down to the dungeons.

"If you were attempting not to wake me, you failed dismally," Snape sat up, alleviating his weight from Harry and pushing off with the hand on Harry's shoulder. "Your breathing changed." Harry bit back a snide comment but felt his chest tighten and Snape moved away.

"Don't!" he yelped suddenly, closing his eyes tightly and cringing. Snape was back at his side in an instant, grabbing Harry's hands from where they were clawing at, and drawing blood, from his scar.

"Calm down, Po…Pho…Harry," Severus finally settled on. "Breathe. In and out. Breathe damnit!" Harry gasped in air to his suddenly starved lunges and didn't open his eyes against the assault on his mind, just turned to bury his face into Severus' robes. A second hand came up to rest softly on the back of Harry's head.

"I don't…understand," Harry gasped up, muffled by the robes and his pain.

"Don't understand what?" Snape asked quietly, making sure he wasn't stifling the younger man.

"Why…this…helps," the voice was a quivering whisper, stark contrast to his 'Phoenix' voice. "I hate you…and I want you…" Severus had a very good idea as to why this was helping, and why Harry couldn't understand. The problem was, it wasn't something he could voice to his companion.

Rather then attempt to answer the unspoken question, Severus cleared his throat.

"Harry, we need to see if there is anyone still in the house. They must have broken through the defences by now."

"Cason will let us know," Harry mumbled, now moving. But if Snape had any designs on moving away, he was stopped short as Harry wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Harry, this is rather uncomfortable," he said after a few moments more, though unwilling to break Harry's apparent ability to grasp reality. Harry jerked away as if slapped, standing up and moving to the couch in a fluid movement, leaving Severus to fall ungracefully to the warm seat.

"I told you not to call me that," snarled the young man, his face becoming aggressive and surly. Snape blinked at the quick changeover and he moved to sit next to Harry on the couch, aware of how big a chance he was taking with Harry's moods.

"I'm sorry," he reached over to caress Harry's hand, "Harry." There was no comment from the young wizard and a glance showed Harry staring at the long fingers softly running along his hand.

"Kiss me," whispered the Gryffindor hoarsely. Snape's mind was whirling. Harry was going to hate him for this later if he really didn't control his own actions.

"It hurt last time," Severus replied gently, reaching out to brush Harry's hair.

"This hurts, but I feel in control," Harry replied, his eyes fluttering closed. It was only then that Severus realise how deep the red in his scar was.

"This hurts? Me touching you?" His hand stilled for a second.

"Don't stop," Harry's voice trembled and he grabbed for Severus' robes again.

"I don't want to hur…"

"Better hurt then out of control," Harry interrupted. Snape supposed he agreed so gently he kissed Harry's forehead.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the intruders have been beaten back sirs, and you have guests waiting." Severus kept a grip on Harry's hand as they stood together, and thanked Cason.

"Who…Dumbledore?" Harry's eyes flashed and Severus had to pull him close to prevent an outburst of dangerous proportions.

"Old lad? Beard? And a red head with a brown lass?" Cason confirmed. Harry nodded tightly. "In the library." Snape leaned down and kissed Harry's lips carefully. The latter shuddered – whether from pain or pleasure was hard to tell but he calmed, his tense muscles loosening as they walked, hand in hand towards the exit. And if Harry's knuckles were a bit white and Snape walked just a little closer then necessary, no one would comment.

As they entered the Entrance Hall, Augurey and Tranwth guarded the door.

_All right little snake? _Tranwth inquired with no expression. Harry nodded.

_You look…well, Phoenix. _Augurey said softly.

'_Harry, my name is Harry.' _Augurey looked startled, but very pleased as he nodded.

_Very well, Harry. _

"I wish I understood them," Severus whispered into Harry's ear, his warm breath tickling the eardrum. Harry shivered, pain and happiness washing over him.

"I find it enough of a challenge understanding you," he muttered back. Snape snorted.

"Are you ready?" Harry was staring at the doors in front of him as though he was going to be facing Voldemort once more. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

"I tried to kill her parents…" he choked. Severus swallowed and glanced at the door, behind which Albus Dumbledore, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley sat. It was a risk – but he thought he had to take it.

"Harry, let me explain to them…" he whispered. Harry looked fearful.

"Explain what?"

"That you've…not been yourself."

"They won't understand," Harry replied. "It's hopeless."

"Wake up Gryffindor, I'm a Slytherin. Anything's possible," Snape sneered, just to see Harry's reaction. The man grinned tiredly, apparently not fully recovered from his magical draining just yet.

"I don't want to…" Harry glanced at their hands rather then explain. Severus moved suddenly, all but slamming Harry against a wall before grasping his face and kissing his mouth brutally. His tongue delved easily in to explore the hot wetness – Harry hadn't had time to even think about closing it – and Severus had to force himself to keep the kiss going as Harry writhed and screamed silently. It was only when two salty tears fell between them that he let them part.

Harry was shaking and sobbing as he collapsed against the wall.

"It'll be all right," Severus assured him softly. "I'll be back in just a minute. It _will_ be all right, Harry." He left Harry slumped on the floor, looking dazed and confused, clutching his forehead. It had been his intention to create a diversion to keep Harry at the surface of his own mind while he explained the situation to Dumbledore –and quickly.

He strode through the library doors, cloak billowing out behind him and his face stony and cold as he shut them well and truly behind him and hurriedly placed a silencing charm on the room.

"Professor…"

"Shut-up, Weasley," Snape barked, turning and striding over to where Dumbledore was sitting, his fingers crossed and waiting patiently with the look on his face that said he already knew what he was about to be told, and he was happy everyone else was clicking on. Snape baulked upon seeing it, his eyes narrowed. "Fine, if you already know – what do we do?" Hermione and Ron looked between them in confusion.

"First of all, my dear boy, I believe we should explain the situation for those among us who are not so enlightened."

"Damnit, Albus, there's no _time_!" Severus bellowed. "I give Harry two, maybe three more minutes before he storms in here screaming Avada Kedavra!" Albus continued to survey his potions master.

"I believe there is time enough for an explanation." Severus ground his teeth.

"Fine. But understand this, if Harry gets a single inkling of what is said in this room, our chances of helping him will be blown to dust. Do you understand?" The question was aimed at Hermione and Ron, both still looking pale from their last encounter and they nodded quickly, Hermione piping up timidly,

"You…you called him…Harry, sir."

"That is his name, is it not?" Snape growled. Hermione didn't reply, just leaned into Ron's grasp as her fiancé glared at Snape's non-answer.

"I don't know how, but it has become apparent that Voldemort is still not yet as gone as we would believe. I don't know how you all missed it – the signs have been there for so long." Severus snarled loudly at the blank looks on Hermione and Ron's face, though admitted under normal circumstances Granger probably would have understood already. "Voldemort, or a part of his soul, is possessing Harry!" Gasps. Understanding.

"But…how?" Ron asked, face ashen.

"I have already established that I don't _know_!" Severus retorted impatiently, shifting from foot to foot. "What I do know is Harry has not been in complete control of his own actions since the vision he received in the Great Hall in his sixth year." He could practically _see _their little Gryffindor minds racing to separate memories of Harry having visions and select which one it was.

Granger uttered a soft, "Oh."

"And even less so since the supposed final battle," Snape went on. "He has reacted to situations like the Dark Lord would. The similarities are startling. An insignia, not wishing his 'muggle name' to be spoken, attacking those who try to help him. Not that Potter hasn't always done that," he added with a derisive snort. "The point is, Harry is not himself. We need to find a way to expel and trap the remains of Voldemort from Harry's body."

"And why can't we talk to Harry about this?" Ron asked, looking rather pale. Severus raised a thin eyebrow and gave another patronising snort.

"He and Voldemort are _one _you imbecile. Do you really think discussing our plans about how to expel the Dark Lord's soul with him will help our operation?" Ron muttered something along the lines of "guess not" as they heard a clatter and a moan from outside the room. Severus' ears pricked up and he looked towards the door.

"Explanation enough, Albus?" he demanded, moving for the exit as he spoke.

"It will do for now," the elderly wizard agreed. "Are you going to bring Harry in?"

"Do not speak his name!" Severus felt his heart beat in his throat as he defended his charge. He didn't really understand why it wasn't all right for Dumbledore to say Harry's name when he, Snape, could; he just knew Harry wouldn't like it. "And Granger, understand now that it has not been Harry doing these things to your family, it was Voldemort." Hermione nodded slowly as Severus dropped the silencing charm and opened the door.

"Harry?" he asked cautiously as he walked out. The man in question swirled from where he stood, wand raised and a fearful look in his eyes.

"My name is…" he began fiercely. Severus covered the distance between them in two long strides and placed a hand on Harry's wand arm to force him to lower it. Harry blanched and let out a small, pained moan.

"Harry. Your name is Harry," he said firmly, his hand sliding down Harry's arm to grasp the man's hand and take his wand. Harry reached out with his other hand and Severus relinquished the wand back to him. "We're going to go see some old…acquaintances now," he continued diplomatically. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Dumbledore," he spat.

"Indeed. I will be there, they cannot and will not hurt you. Alright?" Severus wasn't sure that reinforcing the fact that Harry was more powerful then Dumbledore was a good idea, but supposed it was necessary.

"Yeah, yeah I guess." Harry was feeling dizzy once more, and pain was slowly thudding through his body. "They hate me don't they?"

"I explained," Severus replied softly. Harry let out a bark of laughter.

"I'm losing my mind, and they accepted that?"

"You're not losing your mind, but yes they accepted that you were not yourself when you attacked…"

"Over fifty families?" Harry put in sarcastically, bitterness washing over his face as guilt clearly struggled to the surface. Severus squeezed his hand.

"It won't be so bad. Come on." Harry's feet somehow managed to step one in front of the other as Severus led him through the doors into the library. It felt strange, as though he was an intruder in his own home. He clutched Severus' hand more tightly as they entered, and his wand was centremetres away from his other hand.

If the others noticed Severus holding his hand, it was shown only by Ron's odd stifled gasp and start, and Hermione's glance to their hands and back to their faces. Dumbledore, as usual, showed no surprise.

"I don't remember inviting you into my home," Harry said in a tone which could have been dangerous, had he not been holding Severus' hand and had shooting pains through his body at the same time.

"We came because people were attacking here. They freaked out, Har…Phoenix." Ron was still pale as he spoke but his voice didn't waver. Severus had led Harry to his armchair which had suddenly expanded to become a couch that the two of them could fit on. Even once they sat, Severus didn't relinquish his grip on Harry.

"There were almost two hundred people trying to get in here," Hermione added, still sounding timid. Harry's head swam with the thought that she was scared of him. Hermione, his best friend, with whom he had fought trolls, werewolves, death eaters, _Voldemort_. And she sounded as terrified as she had when she said the name Voldemort. Harry closed his eyes and felt Severus tighten his grip a little more.

"Why are you still here then? If you've made them go away?" he demanded, his voice tired. It was clear that this was not the response they were expecting, and Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance before Ron jumped in again.

"We wanted to check on you, see if you're okay."

"See if I'm right for the picking, more like!" Harry snarled suddenly, his eyes, dancing and dead at the same time, glared at the redhead as he jumped to his feet, his hand released by a startled Snape. "Well, go on then!" he spread his arms wide. "I'm about as down as I'm going to get! Take your best shot. I seem to have had a lot of luck against the killing curse the rest of my life, one of my special talents shall we say." No one made a move. The room had fallen deadly silent, and Harry noticed Dumbledore observing him in that quiet knowing way that he had.

"No takers? My turn then!" Harry's voice became more deadly as his hand secured around his wand. He had it out and pointing at Dumbledore in a movement so quick that, had they blinked, the others would have missed it. "Give me a goddamn reason! I swear I will. I should have done it years ago!"

"Harry…" Severus had risen swiftly to his feet. Harry turned on him, his wand right in Snape's face.

"Oh, you gonna turn back to them again? Huh? You always were the flimsy one, Severus." Not waiting around to see what Harry's intentions were, Severus brushed the wand aside and grabbed Harry's neck. It was an odd picture, but flesh on flesh seemed to work better then just placing a hand on his robe.

Harry let out a strange whimper and his hands began to tremble as he locked eyes with Snape, his wand slipping from his sweating fingers.

"Stop this," he commanded carefully, aware of the gazes falling on them from the other three. Without breaking his stare from Harry's eyes, Snape spoke to the others. "I think you should go. We will be in contact at some point." Harry, it seemed, had done too much personality switching to comprehend this and just nodded dazedly, allowing himself to be led to the couch and forced to sit down.

Hermione, Ron and Dumbledore got to their feet.

"Is he…er…okay?" Hermione asked Severus carefully. She was clearly aware of how stupid it sounded, and fell silent immediately.

"Yes," was all she could evoke from her professor. Deciding it was definitely their cue to leave, they headed for the door. Dumbledore paused just a moment to say softly,

"I believe I shall be in my office until around nine tomorrow morning, Severus. If you wish to talk." Snape, still focused on Harry, gave a curt nod. Dumbledore sighed and followed Hermione and Ron from the mansion.

It had been surprisingly easy to get Harry to go to sleep, Snape mused as he headed towards the fire after doing just that. He supposed the headmaster had something to do with that, and growled softly. Powerful wizards messing about. That's all any of this was. Voldemort, Dumbledore, they both had that in common. If they could just be happy leaving things as they were, everyone would be a lot better off.

Ignoring the stabbing pain that suggested he was in some way betraying his charge, Snape knelt down on the rug in front of the fire and threw some floo powder in. He stuck his head into the green flame, saying firmly "Albus Dumbledore's office," and, with a grimace added the password, "Sticky Date Pudding".

He had the ever-odd experience of having his head spinning around while his body was planted firmly back in Birch Hall. His head swam for a moment even once it had reached his destination, and he had to pause and close his eyes to steady his vision.

"Hello Severus," Dumbledore greeted him calmly, drawing a chair over to the fireplace so he could converse in comfort. "You won't join me?"

"I want to know if he wakes up," Snape replied coldly. Dumbledore just gave him a knowing smile, which irritated Snape further. "Well, you seem to have this all figured out already, what are we going to do?"

"I have no idea, what would you suggest?" Severus narrowed his eyes, cautionary.

"You are pushing it old man. This isn't a game. Harry needs help, and if you know HOW we can do this, then you are. going. to. tell. me!" his voice had risen to a roar and he paused and listened worriedly, hoping he had not roused the young man.

"You seem awfully protective of young Harry," Dumbledore said calmly, as though he always had conversations with heads. He waved his wand and conjured up a cup of tea, which he sipped daintily. Severus was rapidly losing his temper.

"We are _not _having this conversation now, Albus." His teeth were gritted. "Tell me how to help him!" Infuriatingly, Dumbledore took another sip of his tea.

"Perhaps you should consider whether it is really _your _influence that is keeping Harry calm," he suggested as though it would make perfect sense. Severus closed his eyes tightly and counted backwards from ten. Another benefit of being only halfway through the fire was that it was impossible for him to pull his wand out.

"Of course it is! Have you not noticed that when _you_ and Granger and Weasley show up, he is distressed, but when I am there, he is in control?" his voice was stiff.

"Hmm…" Dumbledore looked disappointed, much to Severus' fury.

"Just _tell _me damnit!"

"Have you ever considered," he commented slowly, "that Harry ('Phoenix,' Severus snarled) is not always calm around you?"

"He has Voldemort in his head, one would assume that it is difficult to sustain his calm!" It was becoming very hard for Severus to sustain HIS calm.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore agreed, sipping again at his tea. Severus heard a noise, and cocked his head back towards Birch Hall. He paused long enough to glare at Dumbledore and then pulled completely out of the fire.

"Harry?" He had used the fire in Harry's room for just this purpose. He immediately spotted the boy, clutching his wand firmly. He looked completely disorientated and bewildered. In fact, if Severus would stretch that far, he almost looked drunk.

"Wher'm…don't call me that," he grouched though seemingly confused as to why he cared. Severus raised an eyebrow and hoped this was a good sign.

"Are you hungry?" Harry shook his head as his stomach growled loudly.

"Well I certainly am," Severus commented, completely ignoring the perfect opportunity for an acerbic remark. "Do you have a house elf?"

"You wish for something, Master Phoenix?" Dobby inquired, appearing with a pop. Harry's dazed eyes reached Severus'.

"Two bowls of soup, some bread and butter and cheese," Severus instructed curtly. Dobby nodded and hurried to obey, shooting Harry a curious look as he did so. The young man was still kneeling on his bed, wand pointing in a trembling hand, towards Severus. The latter man walked cautiously towards Harry and sat on the edge of the bed, showing he was unarmed by raising his hands, completely open.

Very slowly, as though expecting to be cut down at any second, Harry lowered his wand and sat back. He kept his wand in his grasp though. Severus noticed it with interest. This seemed to be a merge of Voldemort and Harry's personalities. Voldemort hardly ever wished to be with a wand, he believed it showed weakness and fear. Harry disliked not having one, but was often without it through sheer stupidity.

Wisely, Severus kept these latter thoughts to himself.

All of a sudden, he felt something pressing in his mind. He just had time to readjust and reaffirm his Occlumency as a full blown attack came on. He grimaced and glared at Harry, who just stared back defiantly.

"You're hiding something!" he snarled. Severus sighed and ran a hand over his head. There were many ways that could be answered, the safest way was, unfortunately, also the lie.

"No I am not, Harry…"

"Phoenix!" came the sharp response. This was becoming rapidly tiring. He didn't want to be catering to the boy's every whim! Severus growled softly and reminded himself that Harry wasn't in control of his own actions before sidling up to sit beside the other wizard and cautiously placing a hand on his neck.

Instantly, Harry winced and ducked his face. His trembling slowed a little, so Severus began to careful rub the skin. Dobby reappeared a few minutes later.

"Lunch, sirs. And Master Harry, Augurey said to tell you that he and Tranwth have secured the grounds." The house elf bowed and Harry blinked in confusion, looking to Severus for an explanation.

"What happened?" Severus assumed that this was all a symptom of fighting off Voldemort internally and just gave a reassuring sort of smirk.

"Eat some soup, you'll feel better." He removed his hand and suddenly Harry jerked again, his face contorted and in a raspy voice he snarled,

"You are weak, Severus Snape. You chose the losing side!" Severus grabbed Harry's hand instinctively. Harry let out a kind of agonised howl and slumped on the bed. The potions master checked his pulse. He was still breathing, just unconscious then. Probably knocked out from pain.

Severus settled back, his hand still firmly holding Harry's smaller one. He didn't want a repeat. It had clearly been Voldemort taking over Harry's mind again. At least, he really hoped that was it.

"_Have you ever considered that Harry is not always calm around you?" _It was like slamming into a brick wall. Severus sat straight up, almost dislodging the tray of soups and bread. He stared first at Harry's face, and then at their joined hands. His jaw had dropped. He could only keep Harry calm as long as he was touching him?

He frowned and settled back against the pillows.

That made no more sense than his last theory. He had, unhappily, touched Voldemort many a time. It had never had any sort of effect. His brow creased as he stared at Harry's face, still knotted in pain. What was different with Harry then with Voldemort? Well, he supposed he enjoyed Harry's company. He could certainly push the limits to say that he liked the man.

That was all it took? The fact that he liked Harry? That couldn't be it. The boy had plenty of friends.

'When was the last time any of them were allowed close enough to touch him?'

Something that Harry had told him the year previous once he had tried to rescue Lupin came to mind,

"_You know, considering I have such a great weapon, I'm getting my arse kicked in this stupid war." _It had been said in an offhand, weary, defeated tone. Usually Severus would have ignored such a statement, but Harry's belief that he seemed to have a weapon sparked his interest.

"_Perhaps you are simply using it incorrectly? What is it?" _

"_What's what?"_

"_The weapon, Potter!" _There had been some definite irritation at this point. And a very ugly, twisted smirk on Harry's face.

"_Love." _He had spat the word with as much venom as Nagini had ever used. Severus had almost been ready to laugh, except he hadn't believed that Harry could look so loathsome about something he had been craving for sixteen years.

"_What do you mean?" _

"_Ask Dumbledore, he seems to know everything!" _Harry had started to sulk, so Severus had decided it would be best to leave him alone. He couldn't stand him when he got into one of his moods.

Right now, he was almost sympathetic to Harry's plight. The blasted headmaster _did _seem to know all and reveal nothing. What was it all meant to add up to? While Severus would admit a certain…fondness for the brat, it certainly didn't amount to love. Where was the missing piece?

He glanced down at their joined hands again for a moment, and caught himself with shock. He had intertwined their fingers.

"Shit," he muttered. How had he gotten himself into this?

Severus woke to the unpleasant feeling of a significant dampness in the bed. His eyes shot open and the hand that wasn't still entangled with Harry's stretched immediately for his wand. A few seconds later he realised what he had done with a snarl. The upturned, uneaten soup, cheese and bread lay across the bed. How on earth had he fallen asleep?

His eyes flicked instinctively towards Harry who seemed to be sleeping very lightly now, but at least still sleeping. Severus climbed carefully from the bed, wincing as he stood on the tray that had fallen to the floor and promptly broke with a loud snapping noise. He waved his wand and cleared away the mess on the bed just as the noise roused Harry who sat up as though someone had a knife to his throat, wand in hand, looking panicked.

"Calm down," Snape warned immediately, not wanting to risk it, he leaned over and touched the hand Harry held his wand with. Harry lowered it instantly. Severus wondered how long this could continue. He certainly couldn't be holding Harry's hand, literally, for any length of time.

Damn Dumbledore and his ambiguity.

"Sorry," Harry blinked. His stomach rumbled and he looked down in surprise. His head turned and his eyes searched for the food which had lain before him earlier. He frowned, his brow creased. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Passed out, I believed," Snape replied, cautiously removing his hand from a lucid sounding Harry. Harry frowned and his hand moved up to rub his scar, a familiar movement which he hadn't carried out for a long time.

"Why?" he looked honestly perplexed. "You got Dobby to bring up the food…_you drugged my food_!" he accused, stepping back a bit.

"If I had I highly doubt the smell of it would affect you so," sneered Snape. Seeing Harry still looking confused he sighed and explained, "You didn't eat anything, Potter."

"Why not?"

"Perhaps you imagined I poisoned it?" suggested Severus snidely. "In any case, if you are hungry now we can order more food." Harry frowned.

"I'd better go to the hall, or the others might not eat." Harry, disturbingly, couldn't remember the last time he had seen Augury, Dobby or Hedwig eat. Without any further ado, he head for the door, Severus hot on his heels in case of another 'relapse'. He stayed silent, completely at a loss of how to deal with the situation now he was fully aware of what it was. Dumbledore had been very little help. Now he had a general idea of how he could help calm Harry, but it certainly wasn't getting rid of Voldemort.

'_Dobby,' _Harry called silently for the first time in a long time. Dobby arrived with a crack just as the stepped into the Entrance Hall. Snape grimaced and stepped back, startled, his hand already halfway to his wand. It was a stark flashback to his Death Eater days when his comrades (or so _they _thought) would apparate at his side to Death Eater gatherings.

"The Dark Phoenix called, sir?" Dobby bowed low, to Harry's obvious disconcertion. He looked with eyes filled with bewilderment and helplessness to Severus who immediately stepped forward to take over.

"Harry would like lunch served in the Great Hall, enough for four people. He wishes for you and the demiguise to join him." Dobby bowed low, paused in case something was added, and disappeared. Severus observed Harry quietly, wondering how these changes had occurred. Could it simply have been from a lengthy period of contact with Severus?

Whatever it was, Harry seemed perfectly himself. Not that Severus was fooled, any moment now Voldemort could re-emerge.

"Well…let's go," said Harry with a tone of uncertainty, continuing slowly to the Great Hall. Severus opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut with a grimace and followed.

Augury already sat at the table when they walked in, and Hedwig swooped down from where she had been flying to land on her stand as Harry sat down. Severus sat beside his charge and jumped as Dobby appeared in the room and clicked his fingers, setting the table with food he had prepared.

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said, his voice sounding automatic. Severus glanced at the young man out of the side of his eye and considered that he was the only person Snape had ever heard thank a house elf for doing what they were meant to do. (He had never had to deal with Hermione and S.P.E.W)

He saw the demiguise, house elf, and even the owl, were waiting for Harry to eat before they did. Harry was staring aimlessly at the food as though he'd forgotten what to do with it. Severus reached out and grabbed a spoon and began to spoon peas, potatos, and meat onto Harry's plate before helping himself.

Harry scooped up two peas on his fork and stared at them for a moment before putting them into his mouth. Immediately, the others dug in. They ate in silence for a while, and Severus observed Harry from the side of his eyes. There was something not right. He was Harry at the moment, but there was something different, even considering the circumstances.

The man was hunched as though in pain, and his eyes darted from spot to spot in the room without stopping even as he ate. God, Severus hoped having Voldemort in his mind wasn't going to warp Harry completely. He then spent a good ten minutes chiding himself for his stupidity. Of course it would affect him.

A sudden screech snapped Severus out of his musings and his head shot up to see a tawny owl fly in the window. It had feathers hanging off it and looked haggard. In its claws it held a newspaper.

"How did…?" Harry asked tiredly. He'd put wards up to stop the idiot animals getting in. Severus didn't want to say it but he couldn't help thinking that all the 'switching' back and forth between Voldemort and Harry as the primary occupant of Harry's mind was probably wreaking havoc with the boy's magic. It was very likely that the owl had found a weak spot in the magic and beat it's way through. Owls didn't like not being able to deliver their mail.

The owl dropped the mail in front of Harry and then, rather then asking for payment, collapsed on the table. Hedwig hooted indignantly and Severus poked the owl until it climbed onto Hedwig's stand beside her and had a drink. It would be alright to fly once it had had a rest.

Harry had meanwhile reached out and picked up the paper, opening it and staring at it like it was the strangest thing he had ever seen before.

"I didn't order this…" he murmured, glancing at the owl again in confusion. Severus had a nagging suspicion that someone WANTED Harry to see the paper. The problem was he couldn't be sure it was for Harry's good or not.

Harry unfolded the paper and scanned down the front page. Something about an outbreak of dragon pox which hadn't been seen for a thousand years in East Scotland. An article by Rita Skeeter on 10 ways goblins cheat you and there it was…in the corner. A small box highlighted by a heavy black border.

THE DARK PHOENIX vs THE DARK LORD. Pg. 3 and 4.

"Harry," Severus reached out to take the paper. Harry's face had twisted into an expression of distress but he shook the paper from Severus' grasp anyway and opened it. A picture of him on one side, standing outside a house with the phoenix mark that had become his own floating behind him – and a photo of the Dark Lord with the Dark Mark over his head.

A large title read: DO YOU SEE THE SIMILARITIES?

"I…" Harry's face paled and he stared at the two pictures, starting to shake before Severus could wrestle the paper away from him. Haunted eyes stared at the place the paper had been before they sought out the man nearby. "Is that…am I…that bad? What have I…"

Severus longed to tell Harry all he knew. That it wasn't really the Gryffindor who was in charge of his actions. That half the time he had NO control at all. But he couldn't. He couldn't because it would jeopardise any chance they had of getting him back to normal. The paper seemed to have taken him one step forward. Apparently seeing the similarities was a good thing – though Severus didn't know how. Seeing Harry looking so devastated made something in him wrench and he knew that he was going to throttle Dumbledore if he had been the one to send the article.

"You need to eat some more," he told Harry quietly, vanishing the paper with a quick wave of his wand. Harry shook his head and moved to leave the table. Quickly darting out a hand, Severus caught Harry's wrist and grimaced as the young man jerked and flinched in pain. "I mean it, Harry. Please." Harry's eyes locked with Severus' and finally, slowly, he settled back down.

_Do not let other people dictate how you see yourself, _Augury suggested quietly. Severus glanced at the animal with a frown, still unable to tell what the Demiguise was saying. Whatever it was it seemed to do the trick though as Harry sighed and ate just a little bit more.

Severus picked at his own food, a plan forming in his mind.

**A/N: **_Wow, it's been a long time since my last update. Sorry!! As I've stated before this story WILL NOT BE ABANDONED. I promise it will be finished and so will it's sequel! Life in general and Uni in particular has left me with very little time to write. I'm currently in the middle of exams and then have a month off on holidays so possibly I can get more up then. _

_Special thanks to all my reviewers! You're the reason I'm motivated to continue._

_This is the last chapter that I've had already written up to post in advance, the next chapter has only been drafted which means I'm going to have to drag my sorry behind to the computer and write it up. The more reviews the more motivated I'm going to be to do that XD Thank you all for sticking with this story. _

_Oh – and once again this story hasn't been beta'd but will be fixed and reposted once it's done. _


	14. The Plan Begins

**Chapter Fourteen: The Plan Begins **

Once Harry had finally gone to sleep, Severus slipped off the bed and untangled his fingers from Harry's. The only good thing to come from the article in the _Daily Prophet _was that it had upset Harry so much that in a few hours he had been too exhausted to keep his eyes open. The article had, however, disturbed him so much that he had demanded that Severus remain touching him almost all the time until he was asleep. Severus found that he didn't really mind as much as he would expect, knowing what was controlling him.

Kneeling in front of the fireplace, Severus glanced over his shoulder once more to check that Harry was sound asleep before throwing in some power,

"Albus Dumbledore's office. Sticky Date Pudding." The fire flared and Severus stuck his head into it. There was a momentary sickening feeling as though half of him was being twisted away from the rest of him and then Dumbledore's office was coming into perspective again. "Albus? Albus?" A door that lead into Albus' bedroom opened and the old wizard exited in a bright yellow nightgown with a pattern of purple, gaudy hippogriffs dancing across it.

"Severus? My boy what are you doing here at this time of night?" Concern flooded his face, "Is Harry alright?"

"Harry is fine. Although the article in the Daily Prophet did nothing to help his state of mind," Severus glared at Dumbledore accusatory but the older man just looked back at him calmly.

"Ah yes, I read that myself. What can I do for you, Severus?" Severus held his tongue for the sake of Harry and got down to business.

"You asked me to work out why Harry is not always calm around me. As much as I enjoy wandering around in your riddles and conundrums, Albus, it would have made things much simpler if you had just told me!" Albus raised his eyebrows and walked around his desk to settle in his throne-like chair and conjured up a hot pot of tea.

"Would it? Would you have believed me?" Severus gaped.

"Would I have believed that the only way to prevent Voldemort from having total control over Harry would be to have someone who likes him, and who I assume he likes, to touch him? Yes I would have!" Dumbledore smiled benevolently and shook his head as though Severus was a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum.

"I have been telling you and young Harry the same thing for twenty years and you still cannot accept it?"

"Accept _what_?" Severus snarled, glancing back over his shoulder to check whether Harry was stirring.

Dumbledore sipped his tea and looked over at Severus, who realised in irritation that somehow the whole conversation had been flipped around as though it had been Dumbledore who had initiated it.

"What, Severus, do you believe was our greatest weapon against Voldemort?" his tone was conversational and Severus felt his irritation levels rising.

"Harry, obviously," he growled. "Which is why I am here, come to think of it." Dumbledore ignored Snape's anger and took another sip of tea, humming in delight.

"Even Harry had to have a weapon, Severus," he pointed out softly.

"His _wand? _Damnit Albus stop playing games!" Suddenly, Severus was struck by a memory.

"_You know, considering I have such a great weapon, I'm getting my arse kicked in this stupid war."_

"_Perhaps you are simply using it incorrectly? What is it?" _

"_What's what?"_

"_The weapon, Potter!" _

"_Love."_

Severus stared at Dumbledore in disbelief, and then with no little scepticism.

"I do not love Potter!" Dumbledore smiled and finally placed his cup of tea down.

"Do you know that that is the first time I have heard you refer to Harry as Potter in months?"

"I call you Albus and Minerva Minerva, and believe me I do not go in for that sort of thing!" Severus' eyes were blazing. Dumbledore sighed,

"I confess myself disappointed, Severus. You are not usually this slow to pick up on new concepts..." Severus glared at Dumbledore.

"I am not..."

"Of course not," Dumbledore interrupted him firmly. "Now, you came to speak to me for a reason I presume?" Severus started and with a disconcerting amount of effort he reached his mind back to recall why he had flooed anyway.

"My _point_ was," he continued irritably once he had regained his thoughts, "it is obvious that being around people who care is helping Potter because Voldemort cannot deal with those emotions." Dumbledore kept a small secretive smile on his face as Severus continued to refer to Harry as Potter. "So I was considering the benefits of an intervention of sorts."

"The concept certainly has merit," Dumbledore agreed. His tone suggested that he had thought of a similar, or the same idea well before Severus. It set his teeth on edge when he considered the way Dumbledore always left it up to others, potentially making the situation far worse in the meantime.

"Tomorrow evening, Birch Hall," Severus snarled. "I suppose _you _will have to come. Bring Granger and Weasley. Minerva I suppose as well." Dumbledore nodded. Harry's house teacher had always been fond of him and he had grown to like her as well.

"Hagrid, I'm sure Harry would like to see him once more." Severus nodded absent-mindedly, hearing noise back at Birch Hall. When Dumbledore did not go on, however, Snape's attention turned back to the headmaster and he scowled.

"Who else? Potter must have a harem of girls who you could bring?" Dumbledore raised a thick, silver eyebrow.

"_Girls, _Severus?" Snape's high cheekbones coloured.

"I'm doing what needs to be done to keep him on the rails. The point is there must be more people you could bring."

"Of course you are, Severus. And I believe that it might be better to keep the gathering small and intimate." Severus frowned. He felt like there had to be more people to invite.

"What about the rest of the Weasley's?" he asked.

"Do you think Harry would really want them to see him like this?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"I think he would like to be _free _of that monster once and for all," Severus snarled. "Fine, do what you like. I have to go. Potter is getting up. Tomorrow. Birch Hall."

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Harry demanded as Severus glared at the door for the fourth time that night. He was sitting on the couch next to Harry, a book in his hand. He'd been on the same page for an hour and a half. Severus looked to Harry and frowned.

"Are you feeling alright?" Harry gaped incredulously.

"I'm not the one twitching like a chizpurfle in a wand shop," he retorted irritably. Automatically, Severus reached out to rest a hand on Harry's neck. The young man glared at him and tried to shift away but Severus wouldn't let him. Harry flinched in pain and almost dropped his own book trying to get away.

_He's trying to help you know, _Augurey said, entering the room.

'_Wish he'd just bugger off!' _Harry retorted irritably.

_Somehow I doubt that would make you happy, _Augury replied, settling into a chair himself.

"So why are you looking so impatient?" Harry repeated.

"I am not looking impatient," Severus replied, his hand tightening enough to be uncomfortable. Harry flinched as his forehead ached and he ducked out of the hand, rubbing at the spot with a glare.

"I think I'm going to go get some dinner."

"No!" Harry eyed Severus suspiciously and the other man wanted to hit himself. "No," he repeated a bit more gently. "I'd like to eat with you but I'm not hungry yet."

"Well I _am," _Harry growled, getting up off the couch. Without thinking, Severus reached over and grabbed Harry's hand, still close to the couch. It was wrenched away rapidly and a wand was on him. He froze, staring at Harry who was looking far more panicked then Severus had realised.

_Phoenix, _Augurey chided, getting slowly to his feet. _He wasn't trying to hurt you. _Harry sighed and closed his eyes for a second, lowering the wand.

"I know," he said out loud. Severus' eyes flicked to Augurey, wondering what he had said. Whatever it was, he was just glad that it worked.

"I didn't mean to grab you," he said quietly. Harry nodded jerkily. "Could you wait fifteen minutes before eating?" Another nod and Harry sunk down onto the couch again. Severus looked at him in concern and slipped over a little closer, moving to place a hand on Harry's neck once more.

"No!" Harry shook his head. Severus sighed. He wasn't in the mood for this. Albus was already late.

"I thought you _preferred _feeling in control," he snapped.

"I don't like..." Harry growled somewhere in his throat. "I'd prefer you didn't touch my neck." Severus looked at him oddly and reached for a hand instead. Harry pulled away again.

_You could just tell him, _Augurey suggested. Harry looked at him darkly. Severus looked between them cautiously.

"_I do not love, Potter." _

Severus gritted his teeth.

"Harry..." He got to his feet, dropping his book onto the couch. Harry spun around, a protest about the name on his lips. That was enough to warn Severus that needed to be done to help him fight off Voldemort for a few more minutes. He could only assume that having 'Harry' as close to the surface as possible during the intervention would help.

"My name is..." But he never got to finish the sentence as Severus reached over and grabbed his shoulders, carefully keeping his hands away from Harry's neck as he leaned forward to press their lips together. Almost instantly Harry was simultaneously kissing him back and trying to get away, his head feeling as though it would split open.

Slipping one hand around to clutch Harry's back and prevent him from moving away, Severus shifted his position to attack from a different angle. He wasn't careful or gentle this time. He could taste the salt falling down between them and felt a painful tug in his chest. He didn't want to hurt Harry but this was unacceptable. He couldn't stand to see Harry being controlled like this anymore. Dumbledore was late. It was going wrong. What if the intervention didn't work? They would have to look at extreme measures.

Harry reached up to rest his hands on Severus's shoulders, his fingers digging in painfully as he kissed back desperately. Their tongues touched and Harry groaned against Severus' mouth and tried suddenly to pull back with more effort.

"Stop...stop..." His hands dropped from Severus' shoulders and the older man stepped back immediately, his face a mixture of panic and concern.

"Harry?" This time the name did not illicit a furious response as Harry groped backwards blindly, finally finding his way into a chair with Augurey's assistance.

"Hurt...so...much..." he gasped, staring at the floor with his hands grasping so hard at his head that his knuckles turned white. Severus fell to one knee in front of the younger man, not touching him.

"I was trying to help you," he said unsurely, reaching out a hand but still not touching Harry who was still in tears.

"You did...it hurt..." Harry shook his head.

"It always hurts," Severus frowned.

"Not this much," he mumbled. Snape glanced to Augurey as though the creature could tell him why the effect was worse now then it ever had been. The Demiguise looked as bewildered as the rest of them. "The wards!" Harry's head shot up suddenly but he froze, closed his eyes and clutched at it again immediately. Augurey was alert and loped towards the door.

"Augurey, I believe that these guests may not mean harm," Severus called quietly. The demiguise looked at him for a moment and then gave a kind of half-nod.

"Visitors?" Harry mumbled, looking wretched. Severus stepped forward a little more, still crouched down.

"Don't worry, Harry. It'll all be alright soon," he whispered, reaching out again and this time resting his hand upon Harry's knee. Harry flinched but didn't push it away.

A/N: It's true. I'm back. I'm sure I've lot most of you along the way but for any of you who are still hanging on thank you. I've had a pretty lousy year as I said in my profile having recently lost my best friend to Graft vs Host disease – a negative side effect of treatment for Hodgkins Lymphoma. But I did promise that this story would be finished and finished it will be. I posted this chapter even though it's short so you'd know I'm back on the ball and hope to update again soon.

Phoenix.


	15. Friends

**Chapter Fifteen: Friends**

_He won't like this, _Augurey attempted to tell Severus. The man just glanced at him. It was getting increasingly annoying not understanding what the overgrown ape was saying. As it was he was too much on edge, waiting for the blow-up when Harry finally caught on to what was going on.

"Are you going to greet them or try and have them thrown out? I've heard stories about the animals in this forest displaying unusually intelligent behaviour of late." Augurey looked offended at the 'unusually intelligent' part and stalked from the room. Severus sighed and walked straight to the front doors to open them. He'd decided only moments after sending the demiguise out to greet the guests that it might be the wiser idea for him to supervise their entry.

The large doors creaked heavily as they opened – a security measure Harry had put in place rather then simple aging – and a brown-haired woman and red-haired man walked in. Their nervous and slightly unhappy expressions were justified in Severus' mind. It wasn't as though they had particularly happy memories associated with the new Harry. Behind Ron and Hermione Dumbledore swept in with a tired looking McGonagall beside him. Finally Hagrid squeezed through the huge doorway looking uncomfortable as he wrung his huge dustbin hands together. He peered around Birch Hall as though he could not believe he was here. He had had the hardest time conceiving of Harry doing all of the horrible things that were being accredited to him. He was the least certain he wanted to see Harry in his new state. Only Dumbledore asking him could have convinced him to be there.

"Severus," Dumbledore beamed. Severus glared at him. "Young Harry did not come to greet us?"

"You know perfectly well that Harry does not know what is happening today," Severus growled. "Can you manage to show yourselves into the library or is that task something you need to direct yourself to carry out as well, Albus?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"I am certain we can manage. Is there anything in particular you wished for us to do today?"

"It is important for Harry to be able to feel that you all care for him." He sounded as though it was pulling teeth to say such a thing. "I believe it would be ill advised to rush at him but if you could somehow get the point across without enraging him I will endeavour to ensure that Voldemort does not come to the surface."

"And what happens if we do 'enrage' him?" Ron asked sarcastically. "I suppose he'll pin us to the wall again? 'Cause that anti-gravity thing isn't as fun as it looks."

"Shut-up, Ron. We're here to help Harry. That wasn't his fault," Hermione mumbled, though it was apparent the memory was just as unpleasant for her.

"Mr Weasley has a point, Severus. How can you be sure Mr Po...Harry will react favourably to our presence here?" McGonagall spoke up. Severus stared at her darkly for a moment before saying,

"I can't," and turning with a sweep of his robes to seek out Harry once more.

"That's bloody reassuring," he heard Ron growl from behind him. Augurey loped in front of the group as they headed towards the library, presumably to ensure they did not get up to anything Harry would not like while they were on their own.

Harry had not moved from where he had been sitting, his head pounding too much to consider going to his room to find his pain-relieving potion.

"Who was it?" he managed to mutter, his eyes tightly shut and his face resting in his hands. Severus wondered if giving him a pain-relieving potion would lessen his hold over himself. After another moment he decided that Harry would be just as unreceptive to the people in his house if he had a migraine than if Voldemort was fighting for control and pulled one from a pocket in his robes.

"Drink this," he instructed, evading the question. "I think it would be best for you to eat something now. Dobby." The call resulted in the house elf arriving in the room the spilt second. "Prepare something hot for Harry. Preferably in the form of soup." If the request seemed odd to Harry he was in too much pain to question it as he groped around for the potion and gingerly tipped his head back to drink some.

As the drum chorus going on in his head ease Harry let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair.

"Yes. Something to eat would be nice," he agreed, forcing himself to his feet and stumbling slightly with weariness. Severus stepped forward to grab his arm in case he fell but the look Harry gave him warned him that now was a time to let Harry be independent.

They left the room and made their way downstairs. If Harry was slower then usual Severus did not comment.

"Would you care to take your soup in the library?" Severus inquired softly. Harry peered at him with suddenly suspicious eyes.

"Who was that at the door?"

"Harry..."

"No! I am sick of not being told what is happening in my own house!" Harry roared. His hand went to his pocket to pull his wand but Severus reached over and grabbed his wrist. Harry struggled, lashing out with his left arm but Severus deftly stopped that blow as well. The lack of reaction to the name Harry was a positive sign, he assured himself as he struggled to keep his grasp on Harry's swinging arms.

"Harry. _Harry, _do you trust me?" Harry stared at Severus for a moment and then growled,

"_No." _Severus looked at him for a moment and then let his hands drop.

"Fine. Then I should leave." Turning to stride down the stairs, he wondered what he would have done if Harry had not called after him. He didn't think he had the strength to leave the man to fight this on his own.

"Wait..." Relief flooded through him hearing Harry's voice behind him. "Sev...Severus, I'm sorry." Severus turned around and offered Harry a rare smile.

"You are forgiven. I believe it is time for you to come and greet your visitors now, though." Harry looked as though he would be overcome with fury again but swallowed it down with difficulty. Slowly, painstakingly, as though every move tore through him like a knife-wound, Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and offered it out to Severus. Surprised eyes met Harry's but Severus did not hesitate as he took it. Any hesitation and Harry might well retract the offer. Severus was not a fool and he knew perfectly well that Harry could do plenty of damage without a wand but the offer was significant all the same.

"I suppose we should get this over with then," Harry said, gritting his teeth. "Though what you hope to achieve from it I do not know." Deciding it would not be appropriate to go into the details right then, Severus just took Harry's arm and gently steered him downstairs to the outside of the library. "Are you at least going to tell me who I am meeting in there?"

"Perhaps it would be better for it to be a surprise. You like surprises, don't you?"

"Huh...I used to," Harry replied cynically. "I find that most surprises these days involve a knife in my back."

"Surely nothing so primitive as a knife," Severus retorted sarcastically. Harry smiled darkly.

"No...no I suppose not. Avada Kedavra is much faster and cleaner isn't it?" His tone worried Severus who tentatively reached over and rested a hand on Harry's arm but was shook off roughly.

"I'm alright. Let us get this over and done with. Where is Augurey?"

"Inside," Severus assured him, opening the door to the library. He ushered Harry through and kept himself one step behind to ensure there was no way he could instantly retreat. As one, all of the faces inside the library turned to face them and Harry baulked.

"'Arry," Hagrid was the first to speak, beaming across his face, his voice a little choked. He could see no difference in this man to the boy Harry he had grown to love. A bit older, a bit more hesitant but nonetheless Harry.

"Going to overpower me? Is that the plan?" Harry snarled at the group immediately. He whirled to Severus and then, apparently deciding he did not want his back to the group, whirled back.

"Harry, I invited them here," Severus said quietly. "I promise you they are just hear to talk." Only when a hand rested on Harry's arm did the boy calm down long enough to nod his head in a single jerky action. He allowed himself to be lead over to his favourite seat, near the fire, and sat down in it. Severus stood at alert at his side.

"Harry, it is good to see you," Dumbledore greeted Harry in a soft voice. "We have missed you at Hogwarts these past months." Severus approved, for once, of the headmaster's approach. Any direct professions of love would undoubtedly send Harry into a spiral of rage.

"Yeah, mate. It's been weird without you around." Ron could not quite disguise the resentment in his voice. Harry and Severus were not the only ones to notice and Hermione quickly jumped in,

"I've missed having you around at exam time. It's just not the same without you panicking over your potions work." An indescribable emotion flickered across Harry's face.

"Yes, I'm sure you would love having me around. Throwing people against walls willy-nilly. I'm just positive that you would adore having me around." A note of self-loathing had crept into Harry's voice and Severus glanced at him and felt a tinge of hope. Could this be breaking through to him?

"I knew 'arry. I knew it weren't you. Not our 'arry, I said," Hagrid beamed at him. Severus closed his eyes regretfully for a split second. Who had invited the oaf?

"I am _not _your Harry," roar the man, leaping to his feet. Everyone in the room winced and a crack echoed throughout the room. Everyone jumped and Harry ducked to the floor, groping for the wand he had relinquished to Severus earlier.

"Harry, it's all right," Severus leant down to touch the man's shoulder and was shocked to find him trembling. "It was only Dobby."

"Dobby is sorry, master Ph...Har...s-sir," the house-elf looked positively horrified at the reaction he had caused. "Master I has your soup. Dobby has your soup, warm and thick pumpkin soup..." Harry slowly raised himself off the floor and slid back into the seat, visibly shaking now as he stared around wild-eyed at his company.

"Thank-you, Dobby. You may leave it on the table," Dumbledore requested softly. Dobby gently placed the steaming bowl on the table and left via the door. Augurey had moved to Harry's other side now and was staring at his master. Though the others could not hear the conversation they could tell Augurey was asking if Harry was alright.

"Leave," Harry snarled at the group. Severus jolted and shook his head. Until this point he had not realised how much he had been relying on this working.

"Harry please..."

"_NO! NO!" _Harry roared, leaping to his feet. "This is my house! You will leave now." None of them moved.

"Harry," it was McGonagall's turn to try. Harry turned his sights on her and felt only mild revulsion. He had liked her. She had acted decently but she had chosen her side. "Harry we only wish to help you. We know that this ... everything has been out of your control." Severus turned warning eyes on the older lady. She would ruin everything if she let her tongue run away with her. He needn't have worried. Minerva McGonagall was not a stupid woman. "You have been treated badly by many people."

"Some of whom are in this room," Harry interrupted, harshly. Ron looked as though he wanted to say something but Hermione shushed him with a touch on the arm.

"Perhaps that is true," McGonagall agreed diplomatically. "Nevertheless, we understand."

"No...no you really don't," Harry snarled. "You don't have a clue."

"Harry, we love you," Hermione was almost begging. "Please, can't you see that? We _love_ you." In that instant, Severus knew the cause was lost.

"Love is a pitiful mudblood emotion," Harry leapt to his feet as he yelled. Ron jumped to his feet and drew his wand as Hermione flinched back as though she had been slapped. Dumbledore moved between Ron and Harry as though he thought it would diffuse the situation and Severus automatically reached over to place a hand over the back of Harry's neck.

An unholy racket exploded in the front hall at the same moment. Augurey bounded out of the room and returned in a moment.

_Phoenix...Harry?_

'_What?' _Harry did not clarify his name or look away from Ron's outstretched wand.

_It is the young dragon Pip. He is in the Entrance Hall. Some of the forest creatures took exception to his presence. He seems most distressed._

Harry glanced at Augurey and hesitated, torn between his tense position and the need to ensure Norbet's young was all right.

'_Call them off. Tell Pip to come in here.' _Augurey hurried to do as he was bid while Dumbledore tried to make Ron lower his wand.

"No! I've had it with everyone defending him. Saying it's because You-K," Severus had blasted Ron backwards before anyone knew what was happening.

"Idiot," he snarled at Ron. Harry looked appreciative. Severus hoped he assumed that the shot had simply been fired in his defence, it certainly appeared that way. In any case, any more questions were cut off as a baby dragon stumbled awkwardly into the room and ran up to Harry without hesitation. A series of chirps burst forth from the young dragon which made no sense to anyone else.

_Pa, Pa is lying down. I can't get him to get up. Please help me. Pa said you was good and you would help. Please will you help? I need you to come a look at Pa. He said you've got healing powers from the big spiders. Help please? _

'_Where is he?' _Now the threat of Ron had been neutralised and it was apparent Severus was keeping an eye out for him, Harry gave Pip his whole attention.

_He's in the forest. He was trying to come to you but he could not make it. He is really sick. He keeps groaning and wailing and it is really bad. _Pip sobbed.

"I need to go to Norbert," Harry said to Severus, deftly retrieving his wand. "He's sick or hurt."

"No' Norbert!" Hagrid cried out, launching himself out of the three-seater couch he had claimed for himself. He quailed under the look Harry sent his way.

"I assure you, Harry will take care of Norbert," Severus told Hagrid, realising the precariousness of the situation. "Please take a seat. Dobby will fetch you anything you need." Pip and Harry were now halfway out the door and Severus followed. The Entrance Hall was still full of animals who all clambered to get Harry's attention but quieted as soon as Augurey instructed them to. The Demiguise could tell it was a bad time to irritate the man.

Once they were out in the open, Harry no longer needed Pip to guide him. He could see where the trees had been crushed where the weight of a dragon had pushed through them in an awkward landing. He broke into a run, the mast from the forest floor crunching beneath his feet. Severus loped after him and Pip trailed behind, his tiny legs unable to keep up.

Norbert's huge figure was lying prone against three trees and covered in leaves which had been shaken loose from the branches above him as he hit the ground.

"Norbert!" Harry cried out, finding his friend looking so unwell. He immediately searched for a cause but all he could find was large gashes which would be superficial for a dragon. Whatever had caused Norbert to collapse must be internal. Harry could feel his head clouding up as he tried desperately to figure out how to heal an illness he did not know with healing powers he did not have. "Norbert, come on. Norbert."

_Save your voice, young one, _came the croaking voice of Norbert. Relief flooded Harry and he scrambled up to the dragon's head.

'_Nobert,' _he gasped in relief. '_What's wrong? Tell me, what can I do?' _

_It is too late for me, _Norbert wheezed out, but he had a touch of a smile in his voice. _I am afraid I ate a sheep that I should not have. It appears it ate some bait a farmer laid down for a fox. Quite a large amount of it._

'_What bait? What can I do? There has to be _something _I can do,' Harry pressed desperately. _

_Make sure my Pip gets safely back to Romania. He will be safer there. _Norbert let out a quiet moan. _It has been an honour to know you, Harry James Potter. _

'_Don't talk like that. Norbert...Norbert...' _"Norbert!" Harry's voice broke as he reached up desperately to pour any healing magic he knew into the dragon but it broke uselessly on Norbert's body as waves on a rock. As he pressed his hands against Norbert's huge neck, Harry felt the last of the life slip out of his friend. "No...no...no...Norbert!" Large, hot tears ran down Harry's face as he tried desperately to revive the dragon. "Norbert please...please...don't leave me." Pip let out a wail as he reached the clearing and galloped up to his father's body.

_Pa! Pa! _

"Norbert..." Harry sobbed. Severus took a step towards the man with the idea of comforting him when suddenly a burst of white light exploded out of Harry and knocked Severus backwards against a tree. Harry let out a blood-curdling scream and then everything went black.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews. It always helps to encourage the next chapter out of me.


	16. Epilogue

**Chapter Sixteen: Epilogue**

There was a steady murmuring around the room and Harry could hear the familiar sound of Madam Pomfrey bustling around the hospital wing. She was administering doses of something to another patient and Harry grimaced silently. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep he would get out of his dose of the horrid concoctions she always had on hand.

"I still think it's a terrible idea for him to be here," came Ron's familiar voice. Harry wanted to smile but every bone in his body ached and he was beginning to suspect every muscle in his body did too. He wasn't looking forward to being conscious enough to feel it.

"Professor Snape was sure..." Hermione's voice broke through, uncertainly.

"Yeah, for the ten seconds he was awake enough to talk. I notice he still hasn't had a chance to tell us exactly how he ended up unconscious. Not that I'm not bloody stoked to find him like that."

"Ron!" Hermione cried, horrified. "Professor Snape has done nothing but try and help Harry through this whole ordeal."

"And just how has that worked out? How's your father going?" The next sound Harry heard was flesh on flesh and Ron crying out.

"If the two of you don't behave I will toss you out on your ear," Madame Pomfrey hissed at them. "These patients need..."

"Rest," Hermione and Ron chorused along with her. Harry could just imagine the disapproving look his two friends were receiving. He wanted to smile but the rest of the pain he had been anticipating had just decided to kick in and instead of smiling he let out a low, guttural groan.

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione rattled at the edges of his bed as he felt them lunge towards him. He flinched and pulled back from the shadows looming over him and for a moment his heart burst into a furious flurry and a flash of white light blurred his vision.

"Back, back," never before had Harry been so happy to hear Madam Pomfrey's voice. "You won't do him any good crowding him, now get back before I have to send you out."

"Perhaps that would be a wise idea regardless," came the silky voice of Severus Snape. "All we have is speculation on Professor Dumbledore's part that ... things are how they ought to be. It could be dangerous for them to be here."

"Come now, Severus," Dumbledore's voice reached Harry from the Hospital Wing door. "Even if I was wrong, which I cannot say I believe I am, it would be best to have as many people around him who care for him as possible."

"Snape can leave then," muttered Ron. A grunt told Harry Hermione had punished him for the remark.

"Fine," Severus sounded intensely frustrated. "But please do draw the line at inviting the rest of the Weasley clan in."

"No, I think it would be best that they remain outside for now." Harry flinched again as Madam Pomfrey lifted his hand and waved her wand over him.

"Watch it," he snarled. Instantly his heart stopped and he groped desperately for a wand his blurred vision could not see without his glasses, sure a spell was forthcoming. A pair of hands pushed his glasses into his grasp instead and Harry put them on, using his legs to awkwardly push himself up the bed as he did so. He looked around frantically for his wand but could not see it.

"Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey said primly, but there was a touch of wariness in her voice.

"My wand. Who took my wand?" Harry could feel the curious gazes of his five companions on him.

"We thought it would be, ah, prudent to remove it from your person until such time as we are certain you are..." Dumbledore tried to explain tactfully.

"Dead?" Harry demanded, throwing his leg over the side of the bed and wincing as bare leg touched cold metal."I want my wand, _now_." His voice rasped and whatever chance he had at sounding imposing in a hospital gown was lost.

"Albus," he heard Severus' quiet, warning hiss. The man was staring intensely into Albus' eyes. The other man gazed back steadily. Finally, Dumbledore gave a slight nod and pulled a wand Harry immediately recognised as his own from his robes. Resisting the urge to lunge for it, suspecting the ache in his limbs was fair warning that he would not make it that far. "Albus," repeated Severus, his voice a more commanding tone. Another exchange of looks – Harry was rapidly coming to the end of his patience and calm – and the wand was handed to Severus who strode rapidly to Harry's side and handed it to him.

He felt better to have it in his hand and fought down the irrational urge to wipe it and rid it of Dumbledore's touch. A look of unease stirred on Hermione and Ron's faces once he had his wand back, though Harry held it limply before him.

"Potter?" Harry's head was starting to feel fuzzy again and flickering images confused him – memories which danced before his reach and then fled again. He was left wondering how he had arrived at the hospital wing. He'd been at the manor. When had he bought a manor? After the fight with Voldemort.

Voldemort.

A parasite. Black crawling through his veins, seeping into his pores, enveloping his brain until he could shake it off.

Harry's breathing hastened.

"Harry," Severus' voice interrupted his thoughts before his feelings could overwhelm him. Harry's green eyes flicked up to see an impassive Severus watching him. "I believe you ought to lye down before you fall down."

"I'm at Hogwarts," Harry said slowly.

"Yes. Very astute of you." The comment lacked the expected acerbity.

"I..." Harry glanced around, becoming keenly aware of the four other people watching him silently. "Am going to leave..."

"I doubt you could get far in your current condition, Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, her voice stiff and still touched with fear.

"If Mr Potter wishes to move from the hospital wing, there are many rooms available to him," Professor Dumbledore stepped in smoothly. Harry shook his head violently.

"I am not staying here. Stop calling me that." Four simple words had the amazing effect of freezing the entire room. Dumbledore recovered first and if his hand inched towards his robes it would only have been to adjust them and certainly not to retrieve his wand.

"What would you like us to call you?" he asked steadily. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron spasm as though he wanted to run from the room but someone had spell glued his feet to the ground. It was possible that Hermione had done just that. Harry's head was beginning to spin and he felt the remains of his strength and patience sapping away from him. He needed to sit somewhere quiet and dark for several years to sort through the flickers of memories which bombarded him like a TV with poor reception.

Deciding it would take up too much of his precious energy to answer, he instead stumbled forward towards the doors.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you leave." The squeak from behind him must have belonged to Ron as Dumbledore stepped up to Harry's side. When he dared to reach out to touch the young man's sleeve, instinct overtook Harry. His wand swung around almost of its own accord to press into Dumbledore's chest. The old man did not let any surprise he felt filter into his face.

"Do you really think you can stop me?" Harry demanded. Part of him recalled a tone somehow between a hiss and furious yell which made people jump to attention. His current tone was more akin to a raven losing its voice.

"Perhaps what Professor Dumbledore is trying to say, P...," Severus only missed a beat as he corrected his slip of the tongue, "is that there are a large number of Weasleys, not to mention numerous students too curious for their own good swarming the corridors out there. It would be unwise to storm out there. The repercussions would be...unpleasant."

"I'm not staying," Harry said, his voice faltering slightly.

"I would recommend flooing. I believe your manor is connected to the floo network through a password, yes?" Severus asked patiently.

"The manor..." Harry blinked, feeling disoriented. "Right, the manor. I could go there."

"I am sure Augurey will be concerned," Hermione had finally ventured her opinion.

"Augurey?" Harry looked around him and felt his head begin to ache with the effort of thinking. Seeing the man's palpable distress, Severus quickly added,

"I would be happy to escort you back. I believe I left several important potions in your workroom." Harry did not question why Severus would have been in his work, his exhaustion taking care of his pesky paranoia as Severus had hoped. Simply nodding, Harry stumbled to the fireplace and glared at the mantel as though it should magically produce floo powder for him.

Severus stepped up beside him and pulled out a packet from inside his robes – ever prepared for any circumstance – and emptied a generous portion into Harry's palm.

"I will need to be touching you to be transported with you," Severus said carefully, preparing himself for the worst. "Your wards won't let me in on my own."

"I know," Harry said. It was all the invitation he would get and Severus carefully rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. He stepped in synchronicity with Harry and the next minute was a blur of fireplaces and hearths before the familiar lurch sent him stumbling from Harry's study fireplace.

Harry managed to make it to his favourite couch chair before his legs gave out. His eyes were already drifting closed and within a minute his chin had fallen to his chest.

Severus glanced around the room which still showed signs of their sudden rush from the room after Harry. A table had been knocked over and several couch cushions were on the ground. Movement in the doorway had Severus on the alert, his wand at the ready. While Harry was too out of it to understand the danger he was in, he would need to be protected.

The loping shape of Augurey appeared and looked disapprovingly at the wand aimed at him.

"He's fine," Severus said, putting his wand away. "A little shaken but all in all I would say he is in better health then he has been since well before you met him." Augurey walked over to stand beside Harry and peered at the man critically for a long moment, turning his head back to Severus who, for the thousandth time, found himself frustrated at not being able to communicate with the gentle creature.

"I don't know what you are trying to say but he is fine. He is tired, there was some backlash from ... well we aren't certain of what it was but Dumbledore seems certain that whatever it was expelled Voldemort from Harry." Augurey cocked his head to the side. "I don't know how or why. I suppose Dumbledore knows and will reveal all at a later time when it is unhelpful to Harry's recovery but allows things to fall neatly into place." Severus fell into the chair across from Harry.

The man was asleep for only ten or fifteen minutes before he began to twitch and jerk. Severus was half out of the seat to wake him when Harry gasped, his eyes flew open and he sat up, clutching so hard at his head that his knuckles went white.

"Harry." Harry's eyes shot up and Severus was unnerved to find them bloodshot, as though the man had been crying. Desperation crawled across his face and a strange rasping noise emanated from his throat as he tried to speak. Testing the waters, Severus took a small step forward. When he was not immediately thrown backwards by the force of a blasting curse he continued his venture until he was before Harry. A hand shot out to grab his robes and Harry stared into his face like it was a lifeline.

The jaw worked several times but only the hoarse noises emerged. Severus could practically see the memories forming and connecting up within Harry's mind. The eyes were haunted and Harry was now pulling on his hair so hard Severus could hear the soft rip of roots being pulled up.

"Harry, it wasn't you," Severus warned quietly. Harry shook his head though and Augurey stared at him, an expression of intensity on his face.

"I killed people. I tortured people. Pip...is Pip okay? Norbert? What happened to him? Does it matter, am I allowed to ask? I killed people. No...he killed people. I tried to save the children. Did I? I think so."

"Harry," Severus said sharply. Harry was beginning to shake now, his face pale as he stared from Severus to Augurey.

"Severus...I can't hear Augurey."

A/N: The Dark Phoenix finally comes to an end. For any of you who are interest, Harry's story continues and finishes in The Dark before the Dawn, which I will be posting soon. Hope to see you there!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter of this story. It really helped to motivate me into continuing.


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